


I Won't Forget You - Spencer Reid x Reader

by Moonflower31



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Arranged Marriage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Derek Morgan, Hurt Spencer Reid, Kidnapping, Murder, Oblivious Spencer Reid, Panic Attacks, Physical Abuse, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Reader has a dark past, Stalking, Unsub | Unknown Subject
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:21:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 28
Words: 93,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26850574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonflower31/pseuds/Moonflower31
Summary: So imagine you're in the CM universe if you will. And you're just graduating from the academy. You're looking to join the BAU.You have hyperthymesia, the ability to never forget anything. Except for rare occasions.After the final exam, you run into one Dr. Spencer Reid. Eventually, you get accepted to shadow the BAU on a trial run as an agent. But you have a past that may endanger those you work with.Also, you love Spencer. Cause who doesn't?
Relationships: Jennifer "JJ" Jareau/William LaMontagne Jr., Penelope Garcia/Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid/Reader, Spencer Reid/You
Comments: 40
Kudos: 209
Collections: You In The Story Bro





	1. Chapter 1

Nervous. So dreadfully nervous you were and am. But here we are. No turning back now. 

"Hello, cadets. And welcome to your final exam for your graduation. We hope all of you do well. The FBI, as you know, has many branches. 56, to be exact. We hope that for those of you who pass, that you'll find your calling in one of our offices. For those of you who don't, don't fret. We always allow you to retake the last semester and the exams. The FBI is in desperate need of new agents." The speaker in front of you is seriously loud. Though you don't dare speak up about it. 

Associate Deputy Director Gail Franklin spoke with such elegance. She obviously has had practice, you think to yourself as you watch the grey-haired woman speak atop the raised portion of the testing room. You couldn't count how many people even if you tried. And you don't forget anything. 

"Psst!" 

You groan quietly and try to ignore your idiot but golden-hearted friend who couldn't sit still. 

"Psst! (Y/N)!" 

You ignore him again, focusing on Franklin's closing commentary. 

"I wish you all good luck. Please refrain from beginning your exam until all test-takers have received their tests. Thank you." She then proceeded to turn and begin her trek out of the room, the click of her heels being the only reminder she was even here. 

"Psst-! Come on, (Y/N/N)!" 

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. Finally, you turn your head and give your dear friend a very annoyed look. "What is it, Gabe? Like seriously, you couldn't sit still through one teansy tiny lecture? From the ADD herself?" You tease, pulling out a #2 pencil from your bag. Sure, most everyone will be using pens, but you remembered that the test scanners prefered graphite.

Gabriel whined teasingly at your jap. "No fair, (Y/N/N)! I just wanted to talk to one of my best friends. That too much to ask?" He sassily remarks, flipping his floppy golden-brown hair. 

You rolled your eyes and couldn't help but feel a smile form on your face. You loved him like a brother. But that also meant he annoyed you like one too. 

"You couldn't have waited till she was done?" You couldn't help but question him further. It was one of his weaker points. Under pressure, he tended to get uncomfortable. 

"Nope." Popping the 'p' he blew a kiss at you. "Anyway, how prepared do you think you are for this test? I almost made it an all-nighter trying to cram everything in again. Fuck me and my terrible memory." You grinned and giggled under your hand. 

"Gabriel, I told you, if you ever needed help studying I would be there. You're gonna do fine." 

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Easy for you to say. You didn't even have to study with that god-given gift of a memory you got." 

You bite the inside of your cheek, faking a slight chuckle. Everyone thought remembering everything was a superpower. Sure, if you call superpowered headaches and occasional dizzy spells a super-side-effect. 

So, yes, you had the 'gift' of having hyperthymesia. The disorder where you never forgot anything. Of course, there were a few rare occasions, like you could only remember a handful of memories from before you were four. But other than that, you had nothing from your earliest childhood. It made you feel semi-normal. 

"It isn't a gift, Gabe. It's only a gift in the academic field. And I'm lucky to have a 'genius' IQ." You huffed in response to Gabriel's little comment. 

"Yeah yeah, but you have a filing cabinet for a memory. So why study? You have it all up there." He asks, taking the test packet from the assistant that had finally made it to him. 

"Studying, as a science, is a great way to improve your memory, quicken your speed of processing data and important information, and you stretch your mind's capacity for learning. Also it helps me understand a topic better. Just like anyone else." 

You take the packet from the assistant and widen your eyes slightly at the size. It was massive. At least the size of your tiniest textbook. You could almost hear Gabriel whimper next to you as he saw how big the packet was. At least you all had three and a half hours. And it wasn't required to get through all of them. Just try to do your best on the written response ones.

You turn to Gabriel and hold out your fist. "Good luck." 

Gabriel sighed and gave you a smile before pumping his fist gently against yours. Soon after he made a dramatic explosion noise that only you could hear. You roll your eyes and shake your head again, turning your full attention finally to the large test in front of you. 

Here goes nothing, you tell yourself. 

○●♡●○ 

Remarkably, you think you did okay. Of course, you finished the test in the first hour and a half, but who's counting? Certainly not you. 

You rub your aching wrists from so much essay work as you exit the testing room. Even with an unbeatable memory like yours, your hands were still human. So they hurt like a bitch. 

You sigh and take a quick seat on the bench outside the room, probably sticking out like a sore thumb in a crowd of other cadets who weren't in your graduating class. But you tried not to pay it any mind. You were used to being the 'odd man out'. 

You check your phone and smile down at the message your other friend, Iris, had sent you. She wasn't testing for the FBI like you and Gabe. No she was a barista with some mean skills at mixing new drinks. She wanted to open her own cafe and Gabriel and you wanted to support her. She'd been there for you every second of the last five years. You owed her at least a little thanks. 

When you look up, you couldn't help but notice a tall, lanky looking man with long, curly hair walking towards you as he looked for… what you couldn't tell. Probably a map. He had a gun holstered on the side of his belt along with a blurry ID you couldn't read from so far away. But it looked like it said FBI. 

You stifled a soft snicker. This guy could say he was a teacher's assistant and if he didn't have the gun on him, you would've believed him. 

And that's when you caught his eye and instantly you recognized who this lost puppy was. More specifically, who he belonged to. 

"Hi, uh I'm Dr. Spe-" he began, looking a bit nervous as he began to introduce himself. 

"Dr. Spencer Reid. From the Behavioral Analysis Unit. I've heard of you." You accidentally interrupt. "Sorry. I don't forget names easily. I don't forget them ever, really." 

Nervously, you rub your hand on your neck, waiting for his response. And surprisingly, it wasn't one you expected. 

Spencer widened his eyes a bit in wonder that someone knew of him that he hadn't met before on a case. And she knew which branch he worked in. He blushed a bit, growing a tad tongue tied. 

"S-sorry, I'm Cadet (L/N)." 

Spencer raised an eyebrow. He wondered why you didn't give him your first name. But he didn't pry. It was your personal business. And besides, it wasn't like he needed to know your first name. 

"U-uh yeah, actually. I-I wanted to ask you if you knew where I could get a glimpse of a map. Just so I can find my way around. I'm here for a 'lecture' that I'm helping give the graduating class of FBI agents." He couldn't help but brag a tiny bit. "It doesn't start for another 3 hours, but I like to be prepared." 

You smiled up at this tall nerd. And incredibly cute. He was so out of place you sympathized with him. He was basically you. In like, every academic scene you've ever been in. 

"Understandable. I'll be seeing you there hopefully. I'm a part of that class." You grinned. "But yeah, here's the map," you say, pulling up a digital map on your phone. Spencer leaned over your shoulder and looked it over. You couldn't help but shiver slightly at the sound of his breathing so close to your ear. It felt eerily calming. 

"Really?" He asked after he pulled away from your shoulder. "T-thank you for the map, by the way." He adds last-minute. You giggle gently and nod. 

"Yep. The test only started an hour and about 45 minutes ago, so I gotta wait a little while." Groaning playfully you shrug at him, crossing your arms to get more comfortable. You wouldn't lie, he was seriously cute. Of course, you'd seen him before on your secret internet dives. But in-person was so much better than sitting behind a screen gawking over a photo. An ID photo no less. 

"You already finished?" 

There it was. The immediate doubt of your intelligence everyone had when you accidentally showed your smarts. You sighed. "Yeah. Kinda hard not to with an IQ of 167 and a memory that pretty much never fails." You shrugged nervously, looking away as you braced yourself for his incoming doubt. 

"Oh. Hyperthymesia, right?" He inquires. You blink a few times and look at him like he just said something so foreign you didn't know how to respond. 

"U-uh...y-yeah. It's rare, but I got it. How'd you know?" 

"It was more of an educated guess. See, you bite the inside of your cheek when you're nervous," he points out. You in fact, were biting your cheek as he spoke. "And you seem unintimidated by me despite knowing of my position. You only grew nervous when I mentioned anything academic. Which proves to me you're used to being the smartest kid in the room. And having to explain why every time." He finishes, leaving you a gigantic puddle of impressed and embarrassed that he had profiled all of that from only a few minutes from conversation. 

"Geez, didn't expect to get profiled today. You're really good at it, you know. Well, I mean you would be. 'Cause you w-work for the BAU." You begin to ramble, groaning internally for suddenly turning into an awkward blob in front of this professional. 

Spencer smiled a bit wider and let out a soft laugh. "So, y-you want to work for the BAU?" 

You look at him puzzled for a moment before you remember that he'd been profiling you for the past five or so minutes. "Right, profiler…" you mutter. "Y-yeah. It's kinda been a dream of mine for years. Police officer never really appealed to me. I wanted to get into the real deal. Catch the hard criminals. Give myself a challenge, you know?" You rattle off, realizing just how comfortable you'd grown to Spencer in the short conversation you've had. 

Spencer nodded. "It was always a dream of mine as well. I was kinda groomed for it." He admitted. "S-so… any jitters at all? Did you know t-the common feeling of nervousness or 'butterflies' is actually caused by the reduced blood flow to the abdomen. Your stomach's sensory nerves sense the lack of oxygen and blood and it produces the fluttery feeling you get before a test or before a big performance." 

You smile brighter. "Really? I never thought of that. I always just thought it was a signal your brain sent or something. That's interesting. I'm kinda glad I won't forget that." 

Spencer felt his surprise increase again. You hadn't cut him off. There was no 'Sorry I asked' or awkward asking if he always did this. You actually listened. And you wanted to hear more! He didn't think he'd ever find someone willing to listen. 

"H-heh…" Spencer chuckled. "W-well did you know that most people will forget 50 percent of the information you've been taught in one hour will be forgotten? A-and in 24 hours more than 75% of the information is forgotten. That's why studying is so important. It helps retain that information so it doesn't 'slip' as easily." He begins to rattle off again, quite glad he found someone who actually wanted to hear his statistics. It was a good cover for his nervousness about talking to this incredibly gorgeous woman. 

You tilt your head in interest, laughing gently. "That's what I keep saying! Yet everyone always asks 'Why study if you remember everything?'" You exclaim, making a whiny voice expression for the impression of absolutely every bully you'd had ever. 

A darker skinned man, who was much more gifted physically walked over as you and Spencer continued your conversation. He wrapped an arm around Spencer teasingly and nodded to you. 

"Hope this pretty boy ain't bothering you baby girl." He greets. "He's great once you get to know him." 

Spencer just looks annoyed at this man's sudden presence. "Seriously, Morgan? We were actually having a conversation before you butted in." He grumbled annoyedly. Then you remember the face. This was SSA Derek Morgan. You'd seen him in some pictures with Spencer. He wasn't too bad looking. In fact, you knew Iris would climb him faster than a squirrel did a tree. But Spencer was a bit more your type. 

Morgan raised an eyebrow and smirked at you. "Oh really? So now pretty boy's talking to girls?" He teases, letting Spencer free from his suffocating hold. He then extends a hand out to me. "Derek-" he started. 

"Derek Morgan. SSA from the BAU. Yeah, I know about you." You grinned. He looked you up and down a bit in the same interest that Spencer had. That soon was replaced by a confident smile. 

"So you know of me." He said in a clearly flirtatious tone. "Don't tell me you've been searching up my pictures in your freetime, babygirl." He flirts. 

You roll your eyes and take his hand, shaking it firmly. "No, I haven't. Though I have heard of you from my classes. But if I'm honest?" You begin. "I'm really wishing I could forget that comment." You sassily respond. He laughed. 

"No one ever forgets, Babygirl." He grinned. 

Spencer sighed and turned to Morgan in annoyance. "Morgan." He deadpanned. You looked towards him and giggled a little. It was clear Spencer had wanted to talk to only you. Maybe it was something to do with the statistics. But you had a feeling that he felt he was finally being listened to. 

"What? I'm just introducing myself to one of the new cadets." He insists, raising two hands up in defeat. 

"Did you just profile me without my permission?" You ask him with fake offense. He laughed. 

"Did I need to ask, sweetheart?" He asks. You chuckle. 

"Guess not." You shrug. 

"What's your name, beautiful? A pretty face has got to have a pretty name." He flirted. 

"I'm Cadet (L/N)."

Morgan raised an eyebrow, fully ready to ask why the hold-up on your first name when Spencer thankfully saved you an explanation. 

"She didn't share it with me either. Probably a mode of trust." He explains. Morgan shrugged. 

"I'll find out eventually. You'll give it away." He insists. 

"Uh huh, sure I will." You tease. 

"Reid, Morgan, we need to prepare." You hear a third voice call the two men away from you. You stand a bit on your tiptoes to get a good look at who it was that was speaking. 

Aaron Hotchner walked towards the three of you almost with a purpose. So much confidence in one man. 

"Who is this?" He asked. 

"I'm Cadet (L/N), Agent Hotchner. It's a pleasure to meet you." You greet, holding out a hand to him. Hotch raised an eyebrow at you in interest before shaking your hand in earnest. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well. I've heard of your excellent grades and work in your studies. I hope to see you among the enlistees requesting the BAU." He greets, letting his hand fall back to his side. 

"That's the plan, Agent Hotchner." You chip pleasantly. Morgan seems genuinely surprised. 

"Wait, you're interested in the BAU? Profile me." He insisted. You blush from the sudden spotlight. 

"W-what?" You ask. 

"Morgan, that's enough." Hotch warns. 

"Leave her alone, Morgan." Spencer expressed. 

"No, it's fine." You assure. "Well, from the looks of your attire compared to your colleagues, I'd say you hate wearing formal clothing. Prefer to be comfortable. Your consistent flirty personality is mostly a show, as you wouldn't really flirt with someone you just met the way you flirted with me. So you either have someone in mind, or have a partner at home. And besides that, the way you greeted Dr. Reid proves you think of him as a younger brother, and you treat him like the brother you never had." You finished, a pleading voice in the back of your head screaming at you in hopes that you hadn't gone too far. 

Instead of being offended, Morgan began to smile and grinned, clearly impressed. "She's actually pretty good." He comments to Hotch, glancing to Spencer and then back to you. "You'd make a good profiler." He compliments. You smile happily and full of relief at him. 

"I sure hope so. Anyway, you should probably get going to the auditorium. The mics are a pain to tune and figure out, so I'd get it done now." You giggle slightly. 

Spencer nodded and smiled at you. "T-thank you, again. Cadet (L/N)." 

You couldn't help but blush a tad as he said your title. "Of course, Dr. Reid. Anytime you need directions." You tease. 

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "What about me?" He teased back. You mock think about it for a moment before you reply. 

"Sorry, I think you can figure it out, pretty boy." You joke, winking at him. He smiled brightly at your sass, chuckling a bit. 

Hotch then got your attention very easily. "It was a pleasure to meet you again, (L/N)." 

"You too. Good luck on the lecture." You bid them all fair well and turn around to take your seat again. 

"Ooh, somebody's in looove~!" You hear Gabriel sing in a sing-song voice. You chuckle and shake your head. 

"I am not in love, Gabriel. You just started eying the pretty boy I was talking to. You know, handsome black guy?" You tease. 

"Hmm, yeah, probably. But seriously. I saw you looking at that other kid, the professor's-aide-looking guy, like he was a mountain of sugar. And I know sugar." He teased, sipping a coke he had obviously bought after the test. 

"Oh shut up. Have you heard from Iris yet?" You ask. 

"Nope. She's probably busy over at The Bean. We should go visit. Tell her about your rendezvous with Mr. Teacher's aid." Gabriel snickered. 

"No, we are not telling Iris anything. You know how she gets. She gets all protective, and then nobody wants to go out with me cause they're all scared of her." You groan, stealing his coke for a moment. 

Gabriel smirks at you. "So you admit that you like him?" He teases. You immediately realize your mistake and groan, covering your reddening face. 

Gabriel chuckled and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. "Come on, sugar-tits. Let's get out of here for a lil' bit. Come back for that 'lecture' in like an hour." He teased. You bring your hands away from your face and sigh. 

Did you really like him? Maybe. It was probably just an internet crush. Nothing more. It wasn't like it could get worse.


	2. Chapter 2

Now you were incredibly nervous. More so than three weeks ago when you took the final exam. 

"Come on, (Y/N/N), you passed the damn test! Of course they want you to shadow the BAU." Gabriel tried to assure you, lying lazily on the sofa of your shared apartment. He munched on a bag of potato chips, reminding you to get on him about that later. 

"You don't know that, Gabe. Just because I passed the test doesn't automatically mean I'm a good fit. Sure, I've wanted to be a part of the BAU for as long as I can remember…" 

You sigh and rub the back of your neck with a nervous hand. "B-but that doesn't mean I'm the best candidate. My chance of success here is barely 15% at the most compared to the hoard of agents who applied for the BAU shadowing opportunity." You paced back and forth, gesturing wildly towards your best friend as you tried to calm your desperate nerves. 

"Girl, calm your tits." You turn your head, looking into the gorgeous brown eyes of your other roommate. "You and Gabe both passed. You both have great opportunities. That's more than I've gotten worth in tips for the past 3 years." Iris insists, shoving Gabriel's legs off the couch so that she could sit. Gabriel rolled his eyes and purposefully put his legs in her lap. This then began a small fight between the two of trying to win over the other. 

"(Y/N), real talk, was it me who got a shadowing opportunity to be a fuckin' profiler's protégé?" He asks, sipping on what felt like his third coke of the morning. 

You exhaled annoyedly and shook your head, giving into Gabriel's little attempt at giving you a 'lesson'. "No… though you did get offered a job. An undercover one too. I'm not even gonna get paid half of what a real profiler makes." Exasperated, you sigh and groan in front of him, biting the inside of your cheek. 

It wasn't that you didn't believe that you got accepted. No, you knew that you probably had planted some bias in Agent Hotchner three weeks ago that had helped you get accepted. No this was more doubt of 'what if I get placed on Dr. Reid's team?' 

Recently, although you had tried everything to dream of something--anything else, the handsome doctor had been firmly cemented as the star in your nightly adventures. And each morning you'd woken up with a bright red face. So that question of yours? The idea that this whole 'crush' business couldn't get worse? It got worse. 

And unfortunately, Gabriel picked up on it. 

"So what I'm getting paid more? Your job has more branches to reach out to. I can only go so damn far. And that means I can pay more rent for you." He insists. "Something tells me this ain't about the job though." He teases, wiggling his eyebrows flirtatiously and flashing his whiskey-colored eyes. 

You rolled your eyes, blushing immediately at his inquire. "N-no… no this is only about the job."

"Uh huh, sure it is. It totally isn't about a certain Lover Boy you met that could potentially be the agent you shadow." He teases, swirling a pointed finger at you. 

Iris slaps his arm. "Oh hush. If she don't want to talk about him then that's fine. She's fine without a damn man on her arm." She insists, finally getting Gabriel's feet off of her legs. "Damn it, Gabe! Again with the crumbs?" Iris complained, swiping at the potato chip crumbs that had accumulated on the sofa. She pushed a strand of her dark brown hair behind her ear, trying to clean up the mess Gabriel had made around her. 

Gabriel just shrugged. " That's only 'cause you're only into girls, Iris." He insists, popping another chip into his mouth and crunching obnoxiously. "And yes, again with the crumbs." He says sarcastically. "But seriously, (Y/N). Just go. You'll do fine, I'm sure. There's nothing you and that mind can't do. Be sure to get me that pretty boy's number though. I wouldn't mind gettin' me some Chocolate Thunder." He playfully growled, winking at you. 

You groaned and chuckled. "Fine fine, I'll see what I can do. Try not to destroy the place while I'm gone?" You beg, grabbing your small bag and being sure to re-check your hair in the microwave reflection. 

"No promises! Have funnn!~" 

You rolled your eyes again and snickered. You quickly say your goodbyes and leave the apartment, hoping that the day wouldn't be as bad as you thought it would be. 

○●♡●○ 

You really felt the 'butterflies' now as you stepped out from the elevator. You swallowed nervously and picked at the button at the end of your blazer sleeve. 

What would Spencer even say? Would he be happy you were the one who was accepted? You hoped so. He seemed to enjoy talking to you when you met. You now wished you had the confidence to have asked for his number or to perhaps meet up for a chess game. He seemed like the kind of guy who would prefer a chess match to going on a date.

You took in a deep breath. You needed to calm down. You were going to be fine. You'd gotten this far. There was no going back. 

You exhaled the long breath and finally pushed through the glass entryway to the bullpen of the BAU. You took a moment to take in your surroundings to hopefully be able to differentiate between which offices were who's once you met their owners later as you assumed you would. 

Then, when your legs decided to work, you turned your attention to the familiar face walking towards you. 

"Agent (L/N). It's a pleasure to see you again, this time as a graduate." Agent Hotchner greeted, extending a hand for you to shake. You bit through your nervousness and took his hand, shaking it earnestly. 

"Likewise, Agent Hotchner." 

"Hotch is fine. You have a desk in front of Dr. Reid's, you should have a licensed badge and holster there as well. You already know Agent Morgan and Dr. Reid, correct?" He asks, flipping through your file. You nod in response. 

"Yes sir. We spoke the day I took my final exam." 

"Good. Come with me, I'll introduce you to the rest of the team. You understand the parts of this job is like that of an actual profiler?" 

"Yes, I read it over in the job details, sir." You answered, following Hotch as he began to guide you into the bullpen. 

Almost immediately you gained the attention of three heads. One more following a blond haired woman who entered after you did. 

"Everyone, this is Agent (L/N). She's our shadow graduate. She will act as a profiler just like the three of you. She will be shadowing Agent Prentiss. I'll leave you all to get to know her. We're reviewing a case in twenty minutes." He alerts before he turns on his heel and starts walking towards his office. Guess that was Agent Hotchner for you. 

"So, we meet again baby girl." 

You roll your eyes playfully and turn towards Morgan. "So we do. Do tell me how you survived without me, Agent Morgan." You teased, winking at him. See? You could flirt. 

Spencer looked up at you with a wonder. He had been told you were the shadowing Agent, but he hadn't prepared himself for how you would look on your first day. Your clothes fit you perfectly. And he could see the slight indent on your cheek, signalling you were biting the inside again. It was adorable to him. How was he going to focus with you around? 

"Good to see you again, Dr. Reid." You greeted, snapping him from his slight haze. He jumped slightly, blushing momentarily. 

"U-uh yeah. Yeah you too. And just Reid is fine." He nods towards you, effectively raising your nerves another level. 

"So you’re the shadowing agent. At least we'll have less testosterone around." A woman with dark brown hair greets. You assume her to be Agent Emily Prentiss from her eyes. She was the agent you'd be shadowing. 

"Right." You agree, smiling with a slight giggle. "And your Agent Prentiss, right? And the woman behind you is Agent Jareau?" You guessed. Your memory was unbeatable sure, but sometimes you got names wrong. Some names might've changed within the last memory you saw them and when you see them again. 

Prentiss smiled. "Yep. Emily or Prentiss is fine with me. But she goes by JJ within the team." Prentiss gestures behind her, showing you the blond woman who waved at you sweetly. 

"Hi." She greets, extending her arm. You take her hand and shake it. "I'm JJ. You can call me that if you'd like. Jareau is fine too, if you prefer it." She assures. 

You nod in understanding and let her hand go. "Thank you. I'm glad I'm not outnumbered by men. Even if one of those men has a higher IQ than me." You snicker. 

Spencer looks up almost as if he was summoned, looking at you in interest. Morgan glances from you to Spencer, wondering what exactly you'd meant by that. "And what is that supposed to mean?" He asks, a teasing smile finding a place on his face. 

"O-oh… sorry. I don't mean to brag. I have an IQ of 167. And I can read at a maximum of 10,000 words per minute." 

Morgan grinned. "Ooh, she's coming for your title, Pretty boy." Morgan teased, shoving Spencer’s shoulder. Spencer rolled his eyes at Morgan’s teasing, more focused on you. You might not have as fast a reading speed as him, but you were quite intelligent. You enjoyed it when he began to explain certain statistics. He wondered what he'd done to earn your attention. 

"He's right, she might try to take your place as resident genius, Reid. You might want to be careful." Prentiss teased, a slight smirk on her lips. 

"Guys, really, He's the genius here. I'm just some newbie agent here to shadow one of you for a year to see if this is the field for me. That's all." You assure, raising your hands in front of your chest in surrender. 

"Oh we know. Teasing is just our thing. Especially with Spence." JJ assures back, resting a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. She carried a file in her hand. Probably the next case, you guessed. You wondered if you'd even get to go on this case, considering how brand new you were to this. 

Spencer sighed and you giggled a little. "And I'm sure he enjoys it. Did you know that affectionate teasing can actually be beneficial? It can help you gain insight into who you really are and gain access to your excesses. It's actually interesting to think about." 

Morgan rolled his eyes and groaned while Prentiss shook her head. "Here we go, another one of him I gotta deal with." Derek groaned sarcastically. You giggle and smile again, glad to get the rest of the group to stop teasing Spencer as much. 

"What can I say? If I find something matches a situation, why not give out the info? It might help. How many times has Reid's insight been helpful on cases?" You asked. 

Reid blinked a few times at you, staying remotely silent as he waited for his teammate's responses. Were you really defending him? After you'd barely even met him? 

"Plenty of times." JJ interjected, smiling still just as brightly. 

"See?" You point out. "Sometimes having some extra facts up there can help with problem solving." 

"Yes, being able to draw on that information is what helps me to find solutions to a multitude of problems while we're on a case." Spencer finally spoke up. 

You grin at him. "It really does. It's how I finished the test so early. That and studying. That's kind of unavoidable." 

You giggle slightly after finishing your response, hearing a quickening click of heels rapidly approaching you and your little chat circle. You turn around and smile at the very eccentric blond haired woman who had appeared behind you. 

"You're Agent (L/N), the new shadow, right?" She asks, smiling at you brightly. After you nod she smiled even brighter. "I'm so glad you're here. I'm no longer drowning in testosterone!" She exclaimed, making you laugh heartily. 

"True true. And you are… Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia, right? I've read about you." You guess. And you assume you guessed right as soon as Garcia's eyes widened with surprise and glee. 

"Oh you already know me! That's great!" 

"Hey, by the way how do you know of us already? I think I would probably have forgotten everybody's name if I just looked up news articles." Morgan asks, shifting his weight off of his desk. 

"O-oh… uh…" you stutter. You'd forgotten to tell them of your hyperthymesia. Well, better now than never. "I have a condition called hyperthymesia. It's a disorder where I can't forget anything. Well, mostly anything. I still got the infancy amnesia like everyone else, but that's it. I can tell you exactly what I wore to school on my tenth day of kindergarten. And what I learned."

Morgan and Prentiss widen their eyes. "Really? You can't forget anything?" Morgan clarifies. 

"Yep. It's all up here." You assure, pointing to your head. 

"That is like, so cool. I wish I had it. No wait, no I don't. I'd never be able to forget the invasive information I have to learn about all our unsubs." Garcia rants, making you giggle. 

"Yeah, you don't want it." 

"Why choose the FBI? Especially with your condition?" Derek asks, giving you a questioning brow. 

"Look, I know I'm never going to be able to forget anything about these cases. But I want to help people. Not like a police officer. But really save people. And put the killers and rapists in prison so no one else is hurt. I've always wanted to profile, so here I am." You say sternly and almost inspiringly. Morgan thankfully backed off afterwards. 

Spencer's smile never left his face as he listened to your reasoning for choosing this line of work. Sure, he'd heard it before, but he liked hearing it. Spencer soon after stood up as soon as he saw Hotch leave his office, waiting for the announcement. 

"Everyone meet in the conference room. We'll be leaving in 40 minutes." He announces. You sigh and start to grab the badge and holster from your desk, assuming you wouldn't be going. 

"You too, (L/N)." He continued. 

You widened your eyes and didn't even think to fight the smile that crept onto your face. Morgan smiled at you and nudged your shoulder. "Look who's coming on her first case on her first day. You got a go-bag ready?" He asked. 

"I have one packed just in case in my trunk. Hotch told me to be prepared." You answered back a tad sheepishly. Morgan grinned back at you, semi-impressed. 

"Good. Now come on, can't start without you." 

You smile brighter at Morgan’s comment, adjusting your badge and holster before grabbing your bag again to head into the conference room. 

Once inside the room, you find the man you recognize to be SSA Agent David Rossi already seated. He stands and smiles at you. "You're the new agent, right?" He asks, reaching out his hand. 

"Yeah, I am. I'm Agent (L/N). It's a pleasure to meet you, Agent Rossi. I've read your books. You're a great author." You greet. He smiled warmly back at you. 

"Welcome to the team. Hope you find this to be the field best suited for you." He says kindly as he takes his hand back. You nod to him. 

"I sure hope so too." 

You then both take your seats; you soon finding out that the only seat left available was next to Reid. You fought the incoming blush and took your seat, thanking JJ for the electronic tablet that she placed in front of you with the information of the case. 

"How'd you know?" 

You blink and turn towards the source of the sudden voice, smiling when you see Spencer turned slightly toward you as he flipped through his paper copy of the case. Guess he wasn't one for technology. 

"Know what?" 

"That teasing in the affectionate format can be beneficial to overall mental health? I haven't considered researching it." He asks. You sigh slightly in relief. 

"Oh, well… I have a Bachelor's degree in psychology, and I took a minor in social science. I did a little more research of my own. It was never an assignment, I just enjoyed it and wanted extra credit if my teacher would give it to me." You giggle. Spencer nodded in understanding, looking from you to the case again. 

"No technology, huh?" You observe. He looks back up at you and nodded with a slight laugh. 

"Yeah, I prefer books and paper. My phone is the least modern one that my phone company would sell me." He says, pulling it out to show it to you. 

"Interesting. I'm kinda indifferent. I love reading though. Whether online or otherwise. Especially poetry." You express. 

Spencer smiles at you again, letting out a soft, half laugh before he turned his attention to JJ and the case she was presenting. 

"The bodies of three men over the course of the last 3 months have been found in the lower parts of Illinois. The most recent one of John McAllister just one week after the last one. The Galesburg PD office connected the pattern and has contacted us for our assistance." JJ informs, turning on the screen behind her and showing the images of the three men. 

"Each man was found castrated, beaten, and without signs of a struggle. They also share the same hair color; dark brown." She adds. 

"This unsub is castrating them post or antemortem?" You ask. 

"Fortunately post-mortem. It seems to be our unsub's MO. Each man had differing injuries, but all were castrated." JJ clarifies. 

"This unsub is bringing down men who all seem to be built physically. Men who could defend themselves. This unsub might be after the power aspect of these kills." Rossi points out. 

"Perhaps… if you take a look at how each body is placed, it's almost careless. Like the unsub didn't even try to hide the bodies." Spencer adds, looking up at Morgan who spoke up next. 

"Could we be dealing with a female unsub? Or is this a man who has a harsh view of masculinity?" He asks. 

"Is there any other connection? Perhaps places they visited? People they knew?" You ask. 

"There isn't anything yet. Garcia, can you take a look at each of the victim's financial records and anything that puts them somewhere that the other victims also were?" Hotch asks. 

"I'll do that and get them right back to you as quick as I can." She answers, her face in the corner of the screen in front of all of them. 

"Good. We'll discuss the rest of the file on the jet. Wheels up in 30." 

You can't help but feel a little giddy. This was your first case! You just hoped you packed enough clothes for however long this case was going to take you. 

"You ready?" 

You turn your head and smile at Reid's presence behind you. He was holding onto the strap of his messenger bag and looking at you as you both packed up to get on the jet. He looked cute in a dark cardigan and black tie. His shirt underneath it all was navy blue, pulling together the look nicely. 

"Yeah, just a little nervous. But I'm sure it's just those damn butterflies." You teased. He laughed and shook his head. 

"I'll see you on the plane." He says with a bright smile before you two parted ways for a brief while. Now all you had to do was get your go bag from your car and get to the Jet in 28 minutes and 32 seconds. Easy, right?


	3. Chapter 3

Okay, so, maybe you'd admit that sitting next to Reid on a plane was making you nervous. 

After you had made it to the jet, you carried your go back to the back of the jet where they stored the luggage. Right as you did so however, your phone began to ring. You looked at your watch and sighed. You would have to answer the phone and get on the jet. Whoever it was was going to have to accept that it would be a short phone call. 

"Hello?" You answered, adjusting your bag as you made your way back to the boarding stairs of the jet. 

"So~? It's probably not your lunch break yet… but how did seeing mister teacher's pet go? Did he give you any hair care tips cause he looked good for having such messy hair." 

You fought the smile that formed on your face, staying put near the bathroom so your phone call could be semi-private. Though you knew that Gabriel wouldn't have cared otherwise. 

"Hello Gabriel. And for your information, I'm headed out on my first case. On an actual jet of all things. So don't expect me home tonight. I don't think these cases are usually as quick as a day." 

"Ah okay. So you’re avoiding the question now? Jesus, you're really into this guy." He teases. 

"Gabriel I swear-!" You growl. After a much needed sigh, you close your eyes and start your statement over again. "You tease me enough about my study habits. If you don't stop this you'll need to sleep with one eye open. Maybe start wearing a night-cap so I don't cut that hair of yours." You playfully threaten. Gabriel lets out an offended gasp. 

"You wouldn't!" 

"I totally would. Try me." 

"Grr… Fine. Get me lover boy's number and I'll call it even. I'll tell Iris we'll be alone for a few nights~" You could hear his tell-tale smirk in his voice, causing you to roll your eyes. 

"Don't you even dare. You know you'll wake up in the middle of nowhere in nothing but your rainbow underwear. She's capable of more than you realize." You laugh as you warn him of what you both knew Iris was capable of doing to him if he pissed her off. 

"Yeah yeah, sure don't want that to happen again. Anyway, have a good trip with that pretty boy of yours~" Gabriel teased. 

"What did I say?" You warned sternly. 

"What? You didn't get me the guy's number yet, so teasing is still on the table." 

"Leave it to you to find a damn loophole." You groan, rubbing the creases of your forehead out with your fingers. 

"Everyone please take your seats, we need to go over the case, see if we can start building a profile." Hotch announces behind you. 

"Sorry, I gotta go. We're about to take off. Don't die, please." You teasingly beg before you hang up and put your phone in the slot on your belt. 

"So… Gabriel, huh?" 

You gulp a bit and turn your head frantically until you find where Derek had sat on the jet. You roll your eyes and specifically choose the seat farthest away from him out of spite.

"Oh hush. He's my roommate. Not what you think." You insist as you grab your bag and place it in your lap, situating the case file in front of you. As soon as you get settled into your seat, you feel a presence suddenly sit next to you. 

"Sorry, I had to grab something real quick." 

You feel a slight blush grow on your face as you realize who the presence was. That was also accompanied by the sudden increase in the smell of mahogany wood and soft musk. It was pleasing. 

"Don't worry about it, Pretty boy. We were just talking about L/N's little 'roommate'. Weren't we?" Morgan teases. Instead of taunting back you feel like almost sinking into your seat. Why did he have to bring that up right now? Especially when Spencer was here to fucking hear?

"Living with roommates is actually more common than you think. There was a study done recently that showed a total of 18-34 percent of people have roommates. It's more logical as it helps people afford apartments with minimum wages." He explains. You sigh with relief. You were glad for Spencer’s statistic. It moved the conversation away from you. At least you hoped. 

"Whatever. Still. Who is this 'Gabriel'?" Morgan asked with a determined smirk, ignoring Spencer’s statistics. You sighed. You weren't going to get out of this as easily as you thought. 

Spencer swallowed a bundle of nerves as Morgan pushed aside his attempt at changing the subject. If he was truthful, he didn't want to speak about the possibility of you having someone special in your life already. Although he doubted he ever had a chance. Who was this Gabriel though? He wouldn't deny that he was curious, at least to his own conscience. 

"Fine," you sigh. "Gabriel is my best friend. Well… one of my best friends. He is gayer than a rainbow and is currently working as an FBI undercover agent. Happy?" 

Morgan raised his hands in defeat, chuckling. 

"I'm just asking baby girl, no hard feelings." He teases. 

Spencer let out an undetectable sigh of relief, his unknowingly clenched fist loosening against his leg. "He's an undercover agent? How did he get hired as one as a new graduate?" Spencer asks. "Of course there are some rare occasions where recently graduated agents have gone immediately to a semi-high position, but that in itself is exceedingly rare. Almost impossible." He rambled, finally finishing and turning towards you. 

"Oh, well I think it might've been because of his family ties. His father works in the CIA. Though I doubt that his father pulled any strings. He's kind of homophobic." You shrug. "But hey, it's not too impossible. It happened for you and me, right?" You asked, wiggling a teasing eyebrow. 

Spencer chuckled a bit and nodded, laughing gently. "I suppose it isn't as impossible as I make it sound. Although it still is rare. We just both happen to meet the requirements." He answers, flashing you a genuine smile. 

"For someone who's pretty private about her own personal life, you're pretty open about sharing your roommate's life." Morgan speaks up with curiosity. Spencer bites back a growl and glares at Morgan to knock it off. 

"Don't worry, Gabe's not that worried about his own life being leaked. He's got a squeaky clean record, and he says anything that someone finds out from someone other than him is always hearsay in court without proof." 

Morgan shrugged and pulled out the case file, getting the notion that the conversation was over. 

"We should get started. We'll be touching down in Illinois in a couple hours." Hotch announces, gathering everyone's collective attention. Garcia's face popped up on Derek's laptop he opened up as Hotch began to go over the case. "Any outstanding details yet, Garcia?" He began. 

"No sir, the only thing I could find was that each of your victims visited stores for newborns to toddlers. Babies R Us, Bottles and Babies, you name it. Each of them also had either a wife or serious romantic partner who had recently given birth." Garcia answered, looking up from her list. 

"What kind of job would you have to have to know this stuff about your victims? I don't think our unsub is stalking them." Rossi spoke up. 

"Maybe they work at one of the stores? Garcia I'm gonna need a list of employees at each of those locations." Derek started. 

"No wait, if they're all different stores then the idea of the unsub working at one doesn't fit… do each of these stores have the same supplier?" You speak up, looking over the case details before looking up at the rest of the team. 

"Uhh… yes, a company called Mommy and Me supplies all three of the stores these men visited." Garcia clarifies. 

"Good work, (L/N). Garcia, I'm going to need that list of names." Hotch informed. 

"I'll get that straight back to you sir as soon as I can. Garcia out." She says, disappearing from the screen. 

"So what are we thinking about behavior? Why would our unsub attack these men? And why now?" Emily spoke up. 

"The stressor in this situation is most likely to do with a partner. Or perhaps something to do with our unsub's physical appearance or self-esteem. Since each of the men are dark haired and left out for anyone to find." Spencer explained, laying the folder down onto the table in front of him. 

"Maybe something to do with a child? This unsub might just be a customer at each of these places. Maybe their partner recently left them and they're lashing out at surrogates for that partner." JJ suggests. 

"Are we looking for a female unsub?" Morgan asks. 

"I believe so." You spoke up. 

"Why is that, (L/N)?" Prentiss replied. 

"Well, in one of the crime scene descriptions, it was said that the newborn of one of the men was fed after their father had been murdered. I don't believe any man could do that. There weren't any leftover bottles either." You answered. 

"Actually, it is possible for a man to lactate. Although very rare, some men still produce the hormone prolactin even if they have a Y chromosome. This produces the process of lactation. But I doubt that is the case here, as most examples of this happening have been influenced by medical means." Spencer expressed, his eyes widening and sparkling with wonder at his fact. 

Derek groaned. "I really, really did not need to know that man." 

"But he's right. If there is no trace of a bottle having been used, or of one missing, we could be dealing with a woman." Hotch affirmed. "That paired with the obvious craving of power in the way the bodies are dumped and each victim is tortured." 

"What if our unsub recently had a baby also?" JJ spoke. 

"That would make sense, if our unsub is finding men at these different stores, then it could be plausible for her to have taken these men while alternating between stores." Rossi points out. 

"Good work everyone. When we land JJ and I will talk to the families. Morgan, Prentiss, Rossi, I want you three to investigate the last dump site, see if we can gather any more information on this unsub's methods and cause. And (L/N) and Reid, I need you two to take a look at the bodies. See id there are any patterns we missed. However we need to be quick, or Galesburg is going to have another body on their hands very soon." Hotch divides the jobs, closing the folder for the case. "Reid." 

Spencer looks up and turns towards Hotch. "Yeah?" 

"Show (L/N) the ropes for Prentiss. Try to teach her if you can. This is a learning opportunity for her as much as this is a case for us." Hotch orders. Spencer nods in understanding, feeling nervous butterflies building up again in his stomach. 

"Well, I guess you're stuck with me for a couple hours. I promise I don't bite too hard." You tease, nudging his shoulder. He smiles at your tease, letting out a soft laugh. 

"Oh I know that. The question is…" he pauses, raising a teasing eyebrow. "..if I do." 

You snort and laugh, shaking your head. "You wouldn't hurt a fly, Reid. No offense." 

"Wouldn't hurt-" Spencer playfully scoffs. "You hearing this, Morgan?" He says with a teasing smile on his face. 

"I've hurt a fly. I outsmarted its mother." Spencer insisted. Morgan snickered and looked towards Prentiss with a knowing look. She gave him one back, smiling smugly.

"Really? Outsmarted its mother? Reid, a human infant is capable of outsmarting a damn fly. But whatever you say, Fly Genius." You teased. Morgan let out a long 'Ooo' in response.

"You just got told." 

"Whatever Morgan." Spencer playfully rolled his eyes, smiling still under his attempt at trying to look annoyed.

"You're just mad I ended up getting you to prove your innocence." You insist. 

"You totally didn't." He retorts. 

"Spence, you've always been innocent." JJ interjects. 

"See? You can't deny that." You insist, a playful smile cemented on your face. 

"Who knew of all of us to bond with, you'd choose Pretty Ricky first." Morgan teased. 

"You're just jealous I got to talk to her first." Reid insists playfully. You roll your eyes. 

"Yeah, cause without seeing a map I assume your sense of direction is terrible." You tease. He looks at you mock offended and laughs a little. 

"Is not. Your eyes just met mine and you looked friendly." Spencer defended. 

"Alright children settle down before you give me an aneurysm." Rossi teases in a playful sigh. You giggle and shake your head. You didn't expect that amount of welcome feelings coming especially from Spencer. But everyone was already warming up to you. It felt nice. You just hoped you didn't let everyone down. 

○●♡●○ 

Walking off the jet, you immediately were greeted by the chief of the Galesburg PD. 

"Hi, you must be the BAU. I'm Chief Anthony Sherwood. Thanks for comin' down so fast." The chief thanks, shaking Hotch's hand. 

"Of course. I'm Agent Hotchner. This is Agent Morgan, Prentiss, Jareau, Rossi, Reid, and our trainee, Agent (L/N)." Hotch introduces. The chief goes down the line, shaking almost everybody's hands. (Spencer gave him a peace sign instead) 

"So, a trainee huh? If we weren't so crunched for time to find this guy, I'd ask how you're liking the BAU. Come along now, we got everything you need set up at the station." Sherwood spoke to you before he gestured to everyone else and began to lead you all to the rental SUVs they had waiting for you all. 

You gulp softly and sigh, clenching and unclenching your fists a couple of times before you begin to follow. It was your first case. You were a big bundle of excitement mixed with nerves that wouldn't go away. 

Once inside the police station, you found a place for your things, setting them down in the main room that the Chief had set aside for you all to use. 

Once you had everything settled, you began to head out to the SUVs again without much of an introduction to everyone else. Hotch had said to get to the morgue as soon as you could to take a look at the bodies. You told yourself you were just following orders. 

You climbed into the driver's seat of the SUV that you had ridden to the station and immediately groaned, placing your now aching head against the steering wheel. With all the excitement of being on a case you hadn't been prepared to go on yet, you hadn't noticed you were having one of your head splitting migraines from your hyperthymesia. And lucky you, you had left the bottle of acetaminophen in your bag that you had left in the station. Great. 

"Rough day already?" 

You jumped with sudden fear, banging your head against the window of the car. You groan and rub the affected area, turning your attention to the owner of the voice who just spooked the shit out of you. 

"Reid…" you sighed, turning back to the wheel. Of course he had followed you. He was supposed to go with you. How dumb could you get? 

"Yeah… that's me." He says, a slight smile on his lips. "You okay?" He asks. 

"Yes… No… No not really. With my condition, I get occasional head-splitting migraines. They usually happen at least once a month. I hadn't gotten one yet, till today. And I left my prescription in my bag." You groaned, running a hand through your hair. 

"I see… but I don't think it's just the headaches." 

"Guess you caught me. I'm just nervous about this being my first case. Trainee or not. I've thought about this experience plenty of times. But you can't predict what the case is gonna entail." You conclude, squeezing the steering wheel. 

"That's understandable for any new agent, (L/N). Whether you're wide-eyed like Hotch and Rossi, or cautious, I think it's pretty normal. At least from my own experience." 

You can't fight the urge to smile as he finished his advice. He really didn't have to do this. You were new. But then again, he probably just saw a piece of himself in you. 

"Thanks Reid." 

"Of course, (L/N)." 

○●♡●○ 

"I've seen plenty of messed up injuries in my time, though I've never seen something as crude as this." The mortician said as she guided you and Spencer into the cold chamber room. 

"Most places like this don't usually see much serial killer action, so it's to be expected." Spencer says, trailing off as the mortician pulled out the most recent victim. 

"He looks pretty athletically built. Garcia texted me and told me they all were pretty active in the gym too. Not the same ones nor the same days though." You point out, pulling on a pair of gloves to take a look at the different injuries. "Each of these bruisings seem to be done by hand, no remnants of wood or anything else. So then how did our unsub subdue these men? They had to have been stronger than her." You questioned, looking over John McAllister's wounds near his neck. 

"He wasn't strangled around his neck either… she might've used some sort of drug to temporarily paralyze the body. We've seen it before in a few cases. Was there any traces in their systems?" Spencer asks the mortician. 

"Unfortunately, no. Nothing other than an increase in the production of glutamine, epinephrine, norepinephrine, and a few others." The mortician clarifies. 

"Hm…" you pondered, crossing your arms briefly. "Are there any needle marks at all?" 

Spencer considers what you say before he takes a gloved hand and tilts the head of the victim to the side. "Yes, behind his ear. Though the access to the blood supply would be harder to reach." 

"I doubt that mattered to her." You remind. 

"Can we see the others? Or have their bodies been claimed?" You ask. 

"The first one, yes. But the second one no." The mortician says, putting the latest victim back in the cold chamber before pulling out the second. 

"Is there a needle mark?" You ask, hoping this connection would help the case. 

"Yes, around the same area too…" Spencer trails. 

You turn your head to the second victim's file and narrow your eyes. "Hey… from this photo, our second victim is supposed to have long dark brown hair, our unsub is cutting the hair." 

"She's trying to make them look like a partner." Spencer realizes, pulling out his phone to alert Hotch. You nod to the mortician and help her put the second victim's body back into the freezer. 

Then you began to follow Spencer out of the morgue, your nerves finally having calmed down. Maybe this is what you had needed, as morbid as it was. Just to see the reality of the case instead of just your own worries and ideas of the case. You were going to be fine. You felt like a real profiler. 

Of course it helped that Spencer was there, but still. It felt good. And you knew this case needed the good.


	4. Chapter 4

"So what did you find?" Hotch asks, gathering a few pieces of evidence from the table and handing them to Reid to pin onto the bulletin. 

"Each of the victims has a needle mark behind their ear, or in the general vicinity. That means our unsub is using sugammadex, more commonly known as Bridion, or some other form of the drug to paralyze them temporarily. Long enough to keep them subdued and do what she intended without them fighting her." Spencer answered for you, turning around after he finished the last bit of pinning the evidence. 

"Great work. Reid, get started on that geographical profile while we wait on the others. We may be able to finish this case sooner if we find a little more evidence." Hotch informed as he began to walk out of the room. 

Then you remembered the other bit of information. In an attempt to not make a fool out of yourself on your first case, you rushed towards Hotch's moving form and tapped him on the shoulder.

"I-If I may, Hotch, I think our unsub is trying to get back at a specific person. One with short brown hair. Almost military grade." Rushed, you backed away from Hotch a little, giving him back the space you'd just invaded. 

Hotch turned around questioningly, nodding to you as an encouragement to continue. "What makes you think that?" He asks. 

"Well sir, if you'll look at the second victim, Harrison Graham, you'll see he had long, medium-length hair, correct?" You walk over to Spencer’s evidence board and point out the man's picture. 

"His body was found with a buzzed haircut. The ones they give to cadets in the military." You conclude. "I think our unsub lost their partner, or their partner left them alone with a newborn. Which would explain the feedings without a bottle. And this partner is military." 

"I didn't even think of that. H-he had a few tattoos as well. Though they were mostly dates, one was the date his daughter was born, and he had another for when he was married." Spencer cut in, finding his own conclusion of the case. 

"See if Garcia can find any recently discharged soldiers. Or soldiers who've died in the last three months. We need to be cautious that this man may be dead, and that was the stressor." Hotch orders, nodding to you again. "Keep up the good work."

You nodded back to him and watched him leave, most likely to share the news with the rest of the team. 

"How did you know it was military?" 

"Hm?" You prompted, looking to Spencer to answer his question. "Oh, uh my friend Gabriel's brothers are military. I used to see them all the time. His brother Raphael never got rid of the cadet hairstyle." You laugh a little, bringing a hand to your face. 

Spencer nodded slightly, turning his head back to the evidence board. But truly? He couldn't keep his eyes off of you. Your laughter was infectious. He didn't know why but he wanted to laugh along. You were beautiful, and he wanted to get a better look.

"Do we have places to stay set up?" He asks again after a moment. 

"Why are you asking me?" You ask, laughing softly as he turned his attention back to you. 

"Well you were the one so eager to leave and get started. We never got the full briefing." Spencer gave you one of his smart-assed smiles and you groaned. 

"Shut up. You know why I wanted to leave so bad." You insist, looking over the map that was untouched so far by pins. "I trusted you." You turned back, giving Spencer a teasing and fake offended look. He chuckled and rolled his eyes, walking over to you. 

"Yeah you did. That wasn't a mistake, by the way." He says, making you jump slightly when you feel his breath near your terribly sensitive ears. You feel your body tremble at his now very obvious location. 

"O-oh, it wasn't now?" You teased, cursing your nerves silently for your unplanned stutter. Spencer chuckled, and his hand covered the one of your own that had picked up one of the pins. 

He didn't speak for a long, and agonizingly drawn out moment. He blinked slowly, laying a hand scarcely on your waist. You felt like shrinking where you stood. What was he doing? 

You turned your body and faced the man who currently had your body trapped against a pinnable crime map. His eyes looked over your body, and you could swear he was undressing you with his eyes. You gulped, trying to formulate some sort of response. But what would even fit into the conversation that wouldn't cut the tension so harshly? Hardly anything. At least nothing you could think of. 

Finally, as you prepared to try to say something to get an answer out of him, he spoke. 

"I believe you're doing my job." He says just audibly for you to hear him. You blink a few times and make multiple attempts to clear your throat. You nod and get out from underneath the tall man's figure. 

"R-right, y-yeah, sorry. I should-" you begin to ramble, knowing your cheeks were more red than an apple. You'd have to head off to the bathroom to calm down before you'd be able to face anyone. Morgan would probably tease you.

"I should p-probably go see if I c-can help Prentiss. After all she is the agent I'm shadowing." You say as soon as you were able to get your bearings. 

Spencer nodded, having put both his hands into his pockets. But the way he had touched you had made you wonder what it was like for him to really touch you. To hug you, keep a protective arm around your waist, to hold your hand… 

"Y-yeah, yeah. Definitely." He says. You nod at him, standing in front of him without moving. After a few more awkward seconds that felt like minutes, you turned your head and promptly left the room. 

As soon as the door closed behind you, you felt a rush of adrenaline crash from your senses, making you feel suddenly relieved and unweighted. Although your heart was still pumping faster than a factory machine. 

What was this man doing to you? 

○●♡●○ 

You finally had made it into the bathroom, having needed a couple minutes to stand around like a dork and reevaluate what the hell were your feelings. 

You hurried to the sink and turned on the cold water, splashing some onto your face. You did this repeatedly until you let out an uncomfortable groan and braced yourself against the sink with your arms. 

You sigh and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to calm down whatever was going on in your heart. You tried to focus on it, get the rapid beating and deafening ringing in your ears to cease. 

Apparently you were a little too focused, as when you opened your eyes from your little impromptu breakdown, you find yourself not as alone as you had wanted to be. 

"...you okay?" Prentiss asked, giving you an uneasy and questioning look. You sigh and turn the water off, running a tired hand through your hair. 

"Yeah… yeah I'm fine. Just dealing with one of the headaches that my disorder gives me. They get pretty bad." It was only half a lie. But still, she was a damn profiler. The same as you. She could probably tell something else was up. 

"That must suck. I used to get them all the time. Used to get so bad I couldn't focus." She admits, rubbing her neck and chuckling. You were thankful that she didn't press any further. It was totally plausible that she believed you. Hey, if Prentiss bought it, then that was good enough for you. 

"Yeah, you kinda get used to it. I find distraction, especially when I'm just doing class work or studying usually helps." You add, feeling your heart find a slow, happy pace that both your mind and your body could manage. 

Prentiss nodded as you both grew quiet from your short-lived conversation. Then, as you knew would eventually come up, she spoke. 

"So… you sure you're okay? Your cheeks are pretty red. You aren't sick, are you? If you are, don't tell Reid. He'll avoid you like the plague for a week." Emily warned.

"Duly noted…" you whispered softly. "Y-yeah, I'm fine. Promise." You insist, hoping that your blush was quickly fading. 

"Alright. Well, we're all a family here on our team. And if you're going to be staying, you'll wanna get used to people getting up in your business." She teases. You smile gently back at her. 

"Oh I know. It's just first case jitters and stuff. I'm okay. I just embarrassed myself a little, that's all." You lied, glad to see that Prentiss was so willing to back off as soon as she read the room. 

"Oh I know that. Just let me know if you need anything. I'm just one door down the hall. At least for this case." You nodded and smiled a bit more warmly. 

"Speaking of which, where exactly are we staying? I didn't really stick around to get that information." You admit. 

"Yeah you didn't...uh just the hotel down the road, closest to the last crime scene." Prentiss affirms, handing you a key card. 

You take it earnestly and pocket it. "Thank you, Emily. Really. Means a lot somebody's got my back." 

"Of course. In more ways than one. Though I hope we'll be on a first name basis soon." Emily teased. You chuckle and shake your head. 

"I don't just give it out to anyone, Prentiss. But, I promise it'll be soon. As long as I know for sure this is where I wanna be." You rationalize. It was totally believable and not what you really were doing. Trust was something not a lot of people really understood anymore. 

"Sounds fair to me. I hope this is the place for you though. If you stay Hotch could sign you onto the team as soon as your application goes through." 

"Really?" 

"Yeah, that's what he did when I arrived. After he read over my application he signed me off to join the team over the rest of the candidates. Good luck." Prentiss says, giving you a quick and final reassuring look before she heads to the door. "You'll do great." 

And as soon as you had realized you weren't alone, you were. You sighed and smoothed out your blazer and checked your face for any more signs of your previous interaction with Doctor Reid. Once you were sure you were clear, you turned around and exited the bathroom, finding it to have grown dark. 

You grab your bag and sling it over your arm, getting ready to head out as you spot Hotch hurrying from the glass box-like office the map and evidence board was. 

"What's going on?" You ask, setting your bag down again. 

"There's another body." He alerts, soon exiting the station and leaving you to do so soon after. 

○●♡●○ 

"Zachary Small, he'd just had twins with his wife, Tanya." The chief identified, leading the team towards the body. You grabbed a flashlight from the SUV and shined it over the body as there were no overhead lights. 

Hotch pulled one out himself, looking over the wounds that he could see. "Reid, any needle marks?" He asks. 

Reid walked around and turned Zachary's head, feeling for a needle track. "Yeah, same place as the last three." 

"It looks like his hair was cut too. Based on the photo the station has of him." You interject. 

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "How'd you get a photo of him so quick?" He asked. 

"Hotch asked Garcia to run for military men. Ones in the town who were either married, recently deployed in the last three months, killed in that same time frame, and recently became fathers. He was one of the men that came up." You explained. Morgan shrugged and pulled back the man's torn shirt. 

"Hey, do all the victims have tattoos like this?" Morgan asked. 

"No, they were all from different walks of life. I think she's escalating." JJ alerts. Hotch nods. 

"If this unsub is murdering surrogates for an absent partner, we can only assume he is alive. We need to find her before he is put in danger. She's getting bolder." Hotch says. 

"Any luck on the geographical location, Reid?" Morgan asked. 

"Only slightly. I think with this body the comfort zone is within ten miles from here. This city isn't huge, but I think we can still narrow down people in that area of low income." Reid answers. 

"Why is that?" Morgan asked. 

"Because these drugs aren't cheap. They're not even pharmaceuticals. They're used in hospitals for sedation. We're looking for someone who works in some sort of medical facility." Reid concludes, pulling off his gloves as he gets ready to head back to the station. 

"I'll call Garcia." Morgan announces. 

You sigh and turn back towards Reid, who was already walking away from you. You were going to have to talk with him about what the hell happened back in the station. But then again, what if you had interpreted it to be something completely different than what he had implied it to be? You were new. You hadn't even been on the job for any more than 18 hours at this point. There was no way he meant any sort of intimacy out of that interaction. Was there? 

You shook your head. Now was not the time to question whether or not your new coworker had the hots for you based on one measly interaction. You had a serial killer to apprehend. 

"Hey, Mystery Girl, come over here a sec." 

You raised an eyebrow and turned to see Morgan waving you over. 

"Yeah? You guys need something?" You ask. 

"Yeah, you think you could ask Pretty Boy out and save us all the suffering of having to watch you two eye-fuck?" Morgan grinned. You widened your eyes and blushed heavily. 

"M-morgan!" You glared at him, your mouth agape in surprise. "Don't tell me you three are in on his little idea!" You insist, looking between Rossi, JJ, and Prentiss who all stood in front of you. 

Suddenly an arm wrapped around your shoulder and pulled you closer. You growled and looked up at the offender, who currently looked back down at you with a teasing look. 

"Come on, Ms. No-name. You can't act like we don't see it. I saw you comin' out of that bathroom after Prentiss did. Boy did you look like a strawberry." Morgan teased, winking at you. 

"I don't know what you're insinuating, but I do not like him l-like that. It's not very nice to assume things, Morgan." You insist, huffing as you pushed him off. 

"Come on, mama. We're both profilers. You really think I'd be wrong about this kind of thing?" He asked, his eyebrows cocked in a teasing position.

"Do you really think I'd admit it if you were right?" You fire back, letting out an annoyed sigh and storming back to the group of parked SUV's to head back to the station. 

○●♡●○ 

You felt like you haven't slept for days. And truthfully, you hadn't. You had all hit a rut in the case. There were too many suspects and not enough time to interview them all. That and all the information wasn't alluding to anything. It was frustrating. 

Not to mention the teasing everyone just HAD to do to you every time a certain Doctor left the room. It was getting on your nerves and quite frankly, it was messing with your ability to work through the information of this case. 

You had all given the profile, but no one had called in yet. Garcia was still giving the profile to the medical facilities near the geographical location that Spencer had put together, but nothing was sticking just yet. 

"This is confusing…" you huffed, setting the tablet down as you tried to look over all the data again. Thankfully this unsub hadn't gone after another victim yet, that you knew of. But unfortunately that also meant you were stuck unless someone was willing to call and say that their family member fit the profile. Which no one ever was. And they didn't have any leads whatsoever. 

"What do you mean?" Reid asked, turning his attention to you after having stared at the map for the past hour with nothing to pin onto it. 

"How does this profile not fit anyone? I mean, we talked to the families, asked if they knew any new women who their husbands or partners had in their lives, any old ones. And we even asked the facilities. Nothing. Of course we got a list of names, but it's not short enough to narrow down." You sigh, rubbing your face. 

"We might need some fresh eyes." Spencer ponders. You feel your eyelids slowly collapsing, making you pry them back open. Spencer turns as he went to ask you something else. "And some coffee." 

You raise your eyebrow and give him a confused look. "Coffee? How is that going to help?" You asked. 

"It'll keep us both awake, for one. Mostly you though. What with the three all-nighters you had." He reveals. You widen your eyes and blush. Of course he'd noticed. He was one of the last people to even try to get any rest each night the past couple days. Besides Hotch obviously. 

"It…" you sigh. "It's not that bad. I'll sleep on the jet ride back-" you plead, soon to be interrupted by a yawn. When you open your exhausted eyes you're met with a playful pair of amber ones that were connected to a teasing smirk on the Doctor's face. 

"I think your body decided that for you. You're body needs approximately 8 to 9 hours a night for your age. Any lack of sleep can lead to sleep deprivation. And that can cause irritability, mood swings, and can deplete your quality of life." He informs, beginning to fill up the coffee pot with water and filling up the machine. 

"Yeah yeah. Says the 30 year old doctor." You tease, sending a playful glare towards him. 

"Says the 25 year old graduate." He shoots back, smirking at you as he turns around and leans against the counter. "Still, you need to sleep. Even if it's a small amount it can help to recharge your body. Did you know that with enough exhaustion our body has microsleeps? It happens often between blinks and is the body's attempt at charging." 

You smile and turn your head to look at him. "Do tell me more, Doctor." You reply groggily, laughing a little at your tone. He smiles at you and chuckles, turning back around to pour you a cup of the newly brewed coffee.

"The reason caffeine helps the body stay awake longer is that it inhibits the body's receptors, and makes us feel more awake for longer than we would without. However caffeine has different effects for different people. As you age, it actually has been proven to make you more tired than you were before you drank it." Spencer continued, carrying over two cups. "How do you take yours?" He asks. 

"Hm? Oh, well…" you blush. "I usually just take it with a little cream when I'm trying to stay awake. But my morning stuff is totally different." You say, chuckling as you take the cup from him with a slight nod of thanks. 

"How do you take it in the morning?" 

You smirk. "I guess you'll just have to find out, Doctor." You tease. "Why don't you and I get some coffee when we get back? We can get some for everyone else too if you want." You offer. You were wary that Spencer might've rejected you if it sounded like a date. So you panicked and added the last sentence soon after. 

Thankfully though, a smile pulled onto his face and he nodded. "Sounds good to me."

You smile back at him, finding yourself staring for a few moments. You cleared your throat and looked down a bit in embarrassment. 

"I uh… wait…" you paused. 

"What?" He asked. 

"We kept saying that this unsub couldn't be of the lower class, right?" You asked, standing up and walking toward the map Spencer had recently left to get you your coffee. 

"Right." Spencer clarified. 

"But what if our unsub is working for an urgent care or-or a long term care facility? Where you only have to get a short period of training done to work there? The pay wouldn't be as good, but it could get our unsub what she needs all the same-" you realize, gasping slightly. You turned back around and faced the map, grabbing a pin as you looked over the neighborhoods in the area Reid had circled. 

"Here! There's a low-income neighborhood right around here. It's not any farther than 2 miles from a nearby urgent care. We should cross-reference the residencies with the suspects and see if they live here." You insist, grabbing your phone to call Garcia. Spencer smiled at you and nodded, standing up to alert the rest of the team. Maybe this case wasn't going to be a bust after all.


	5. Chapter 5

"Are you sure about this, (L/N)?" 

"Positive. It's all in the details. We needed to narrow down the suspects, and considering how this woman didn't just shoot these men, and the drugs aren't cheap, I had to make the connection." You insist, placing the map in front of Hotch and putting a finger on the highlighted neighborhood. Garcia had printed it out for you quickly so you could show Hotch and hopefully catch this bitch. 

"It matches the profile in that our unsub is still a medical worker, just in a place where schooling isn't required. Such as a long-term care facility or an urgent care." Spencer cut in, backing up your statement. 

Hotch sighed and looked from you to Spencer. "Alright, have Garcia run the profile by the urgent care near the neighborhood. See if it matches any of their employees. If we get any matches, we'll send out a few people to scout her house." He says, turning around and leaving the room as soon as he had walked in. 

Pretty soon afterwards, you were alone with Spencer again. Not that you didn't want to be. 

"That was good work." He spoke up, gathering the map and papers up from the table. "You wanna call Garcia or should I?" He adds after a moment. 

You keep your head down, afraid that if you look him in the eye he'd be able to see all of the covert thoughts you had about him. Even through the seriousness of this case, your mind wandered back to what had occured just days before. You were still unsure as to what he had meant by any of it. No matter how hard you tried to play it off as just an accidental touch, your heart wouldn't let you. 

You nervously pull a strand of loose hair behind your ear and chuckle to distract Spencer from your lack of looking him in the eye. "I-I can do it. Thanks for the coffee, by the way."

You might've been looking down, but you still caught the wide smile that Spencer flashed towards you. "Of course. You'll sleep when we get home though." He insists, playfully pointing at you. 

"I dunno, I might just live off coffee like my favorite Doctor." You tease, picking up your now cold coffee cup and taking a sip. 

You heard a few footsteps, but no reply. Which confused you. Until you turned your head and finally met Spencer’s eyes that stared intently into yours. 

"Oh, so I'm your favorite now? If I'm your favorite, you should listen to me." He says softly, standing so closely to you and giving you the most intense look with his brown, hazel eyes. You couldn't look into them, no matter how much you wanted to. 

It took you longer than expected to finally respond, but when you did you felt like a flopping fish out of water. "B-but w-what if I don't want to? What if… I prefer coffee to sleep?" He had you in his hands almost like putty. And you knew he could mold you any way he wanted. You just hoped he didn't know that. 

"You sure about that? Did you know that if a strong enough emotion is felt, your voice betrays you if you try to deny it?" You can feel your inner resolve crumbling. And he wasn't even doing anything! He was probably just trying to get you to take care of yourself. Which you should. But you just had to be a brat about it. "It's actually really interesting, we usually go for the facial expression one gives off, but most people can learn to fake an emotion through their face. But the voice…"

You can feel your heart pounding in your chest by now. You could feel his breathing against your neck. He was so damn close! And you had nowhere to run because of his damn legs. He'd catch you in an instant. You gulped and looked him back in the eyes. What were you doing? 

"The voice can't really be trained to not give away how a person feels. Especially when it's strong enough. Now tell me, when did you get the confidence in the last three minutes and 43 seconds to look me in the eye again?" He finally backed away, raising an eyebrow at you as you finally straightened your posture and tried to compose yourself. 

You stayed quiet however, unsure of whatever could be appropriate to respond with to that tone of voice. What was he doing? You wanted so bad to lean forward, take his soft, thick lips in yours and push him against the stale countertops inside the police station. 

"I-I… I gotta c-call Garcia. I'll let you know if we get any matches." You almost feel like kicking yourself as you back away from him and practically flee the room. This was getting to be too much. Were you reading too much into your and his interactions? Or was this really something that he wanted to try? 

You couldn't trust your own feelings anymore. So you did the next best thing: you called Garcia. You hoped that maybe you could chat a little more after you gave Garcia the addresses and the urgent care to go through. You had to talk to somebody and she was the only person that you had gotten the feeling that she wouldn't tease you for how you felt. 

"Hello my lovely! Decided to call me finally? What can I do for you my fine furry friend?" Garcia asks cheerfully. You couldn't help but smile at how happily she greeted you. And she had only just met you. 

"Yeah, sorry Penelope. Everyone else has been calling you for me. So now it's my turn." You tease. "Anyway, I thought maybe we were looking at the income of our unsub the wrong way." 

"Ooh, thinking outside the box, I likey. Whatcha got, Darling?" 

"The neighborhood I had you highlight, I want you to cross reference the residents with the people who work at the urgent care nearby. If any fit, run the profile by their employer. I think we may be able to catch this woman after all." 

"Oh I love the way you think. I'll get on that at godspeed my queen. Garcia out-" 

"Wait-!" You interject, sighing gently. 

"Oh? Can I help you with something else, your gorgeous highness?" Garcia asked, and you could hear the eyebrow wiggle. Guess that's what you got from hanging out with Gabriel too much. 

"Okay, uh, I gotta tell somebody about this before my mouth explodes all my secrets. You think you can keep it?" You ask nervously. You wanted to trust this woman so badly. You needed a girlfriend who didn't put you down for dating any guys. Or liking any for that matter, like Iris.

"Oh, some gossip! I will keep my lips sealed with superglue my lovely! Now tell me all the juicy details!" 

You giggle and look around, being sure no one but Garcia could hear you. "Okay… I don't know what the hell is going on with Reid but… I kinda like him. He's cute, I'll admit it. I used to do some hacking and I found pictures of him. He was my celebrity crush. But make it FBI." You ranted. "And now I'm getting mixed signals from him. Like just a couple days ago, his hand like--brushed against my hip as I went to try and help him with the geographical profile, and he was so damn close!" You hiss into the phone. "A-and today? He got super close again. And he practically had me trapped. But other than that, I don't get any other signs that maybe he might like me. Even if he's just attracted to me. So you can understand my dilemma." You sigh, leaning against the wall. 

Garcia was quiet for a few moments, making you worried that she was going to judge you or put you down for being so stupid. Then you had to pull the phone away from your ear for a few seconds as Garcia squealed. 

"Oh my god I knew it! You two totally hit it off when you came in here for your first day! I knew there was something there! It's totally okay to feel like that. I don't know what you see in that boy, but go after him like the queen you are." She insists. 

"Heh, I dunno if I'll do anything yet. I want to see if things go anywhere first. Even if he just wants to be friends. I just want to be sure I'm not adding another embarrassing memory that I will never forget. But thanks Garcia."

"Of course my sweetness. That's what I'm here for. Other than being the techie for the FBI." She says sweetly. 

"I gotta go, let me know if there are any matches." You finally lead off. 

"Of course! Wait, hold on," 

"What is it?" 

"You'd think the search would massively decrease the amount of suspects, right? Well all of the suspect-women in this neighborhood, are working at this urgent care. It's like single mom central." Garcia answered, typing away on her computer. 

"That's alright, thanks Garcia. Run that by the employer with the new list of names anyway, see if he'll give any of them up." You say. 

"Will do. Talk soon!" 

You can't help but smile to yourself as she hangs up. She really was untameable. Not that you would want to. 

You turn your head and begin to head down the station hallway as you see Reid race out of the room with the evidence. 

"He-hey! What's going on?" You ask in a mild panic. 

"We have a witness, the unsub tried to kill again." 

○●♡●○

"Any information at all would help, Mr.Greeley." You assure, sitting in front of the man in the chair with his head laid against the table. 

"I want my wife. I want my son." He says in a hiccuped tone. 

"I know, sir. But if you can give us any distinguishing features it can help us narrow down our suspects to find her." You assure again, laying a gentle hand on his. 

"Are they on their way?" He asks, looking at you with sore, red eyes. 

"Yes sir. We've called some of the nearby officers to come bring them. Alright?"

The door to the room opens and you both look up, seeing Prentiss join the two of you. "Everything okay?" She asks. 

"Yeah, he's just shaken up. Who wouldn't be?" You say, sighing. "Darren, would you be up to having a sketch artist come in here? If you don't feel up to sharing what she looked like that's fine." You turn and ask the newest almost-victim. 

"No it… I can give you a few things. She… she had dirty blond hair. It was… messy. Her skin was pale, her fingers were calloused. A-and… her eyes were brown. Oh god her eyes…" he whispered, running a hand through his hair. 

"I'm deeply sorry this happened to you. This information will greatly help the investigation. We will find this woman. Do you still feel okay with the sketch artist coming in?" Emily asked, gesturing towards the door. Silently, the man nodded. You stood up and nodded to Emily, leaving the room to bring the news to everyone else. 

"Did he see her?" Morgan asks, walking up to you from the semi-circle the team had formed near the room you had been talking with the victim. 

"Yeah. Got a good look at her too. Apparently she missed his blood entirely and poured the drugs onto her shirt instead of injecting him with it. So when she pushed him to the ground he got to see her eyes. Garcia's working on faxing us the photos now, see if the sketch will match anything." You nod to him, noticing the fax machine beginning to run. 

Once the photos were faxed, you carried them over to the desk Reid was currently leaning against. You dropped them onto the surface and sighed. "About 23 women, and one description that is super common. How fast do you think we'll get stuck?" You ask him, giving Spencer a teasing look. 

"I doubt we will. Once we narrow these women down to what he saw, we can show them in a line-up fashion. See which one sparks a memory." Reid assures, looking down at the photos and closing the file in his hands. 

"I cannot imagine being this woman and thinking that I should kill these men because they just became fathers. I mean, I can understand her not wanting other women to have to deal with becoming single mothers because their partners decide to skedaddle. But still, give him a chance first." You rant, beginning to sort through the photos by whether or not the suspects fit the description. 

"True. However in her state of mind she probably views all men the same. That they'll all eventually leave her. Maybe her father left too." Spencer suggests, taking a few photos and sorting them with you once he noticed the pattern. 

"That could be true. But I guess we won't know until we get a match-" you sigh. 

Emily hurried out of the interview room and carried a sketch pad with her. "Here," she says, placing the drawing paper in front of you. "Do any of the suspects look like her?" 

You push the unlikely suspects pile of photos away, about to find Emily her answer, when Spencer spoke up for you. 

"Yes, she was one of the first women you sorted." He says, flipping through the pile faster than you ever could and pulling out a photo. "Here, this is her." He says. 

"Let's get this photo back to Garcia, see if she can get us a name." You cut in, standing up and picking up the forgotten pictures. Emily nods to you and heads off to fax the photo back to Garcia. 

○●♡●○

"What do you got, baby girl?" 

"We got a name, Kathy Burgess. She's a single mother, recently gave birth to her son Jason about 7 months ago and--oh my god…" Garcia trails. 

"What is it Garcia?" You ask, hurrying your feet towards the SUV's. She hadn't given you all an address yet, but it wasn't too late not to get ready to head out. 

"Her husband was killed in Afghanistan 3 months ago after being deployed the week before her son was born. He had left them for another woman, who ended up getting pregnant." Garcia answered. 

"Do you have an address Garcia?" Hotch asked. 

"Y-yes, 176 Washington Blvd." 

"Let's go." Hotch announces, pulling out his radio and letting the rest of the team and police know. 

○●♡●○ 

You pulled into the road followed by a SWAT van, unknowing what was going to meet you behind this woman's door. You all piled out of the SUV's and headed towards the building. 

"Is she here? Do we know for sure?" You ask, unholstering your gun and making sure it was loaded. 

"She has to be. She has nowhere else to hide. Neighbors reported her coming home about 30 minutes ago." Hotch answered, beginning to fasten on his bullet proof vest. "I need Morgan and Reid to head in first, try and see if you can get the child out first." 

"Wait, Hotch," you begin. 

"What is it?" 

"Kathy has been killing men because she doesn't trust them. So I don't think she's going to listen to Morgan or Reid. Why don't I go in? Try to negotiate with her. It'll get us more time to find a clear shot of her if she decides to retaliate." You reason. 

"I don't know (L/N). You haven't gotten much experience with negotiating yet." 

"Which is why I should start now. I… I may not know what it's like to have a child and then have the father walk away on me, but I know what it's like to feel abandoned and unwanted." You plead. Reid looks at Hotch hesitantly, turning his attention to you after a moment. 

"She is right, Hotch. She's not gonna get any experience unless we let her." Morgan encourages. 

"Alright. Keep her occupied. Try to negotiate with her. After five minutes, we'll head in after you." 

You nod to Hotch and immediately grab a bullet proof vest, fastening it around your button down shirt you had packed and worn today. It was getting later and later, the sun was about a half hour from setting. You didn't have much time to get her out of there before light was a problem. 

You then headed into the building, easing the burgundy wooden door open as you stalked inside. You aimed your pistol in each direction you looked. This building was a two story. You didn't know the layout, so you had to make it up as you went. 

Once the lower level was cleared, you headed up the stairs, pushing open the door to the master bedroom and the bathroom before you found yourself in front of the only other room upstairs. You sighed and eased the door open. 

Immediately Kathy turned around, clutching a bundle of blankets to her chest while clutching a gun in her other hand. "Don't get any fucking closer! I-i'll shoot him!" She threatened, aiming her gun at the small child in her hands. 

"Ma'am, put the gun down, I just want to talk." You say, holding your hands up. "I'm just going to put my gun away, alright?" You cautiously alert her, putting the gun into your holster again. Pretty soon the gun in Kathy's hand gets trained on you. 

"Leave us alone-I just wanted to save other women from this fate-!" Kathy says shakily, the gun in her hand wavering it's aim. 

"I know, Kathy. What your husband did to you was unfair. But what you did to those women and their husbands is worse. Those men didn't want to leave their children." 

"They would've! All men do it! Harris did! My father! My brother! Every man I've ever known has walked out on me! How would I have known that they wouldn't walk out on them too?!" Kathy screeches, tears building up in her eyes. 

"Kathy, there are plenty of men in the world who would never walk out on a partner or their baby. You can't stereotype them all to be the same. Put the gun down, and I'll get you and your son some help." You assure, taking a step forward. You heard the stairs creaking behind you. You were too late. 

"Who is that?!" Kathy asks, waving the gun towards you more threateningly. 

"Don't worry about them, just focus on me." 

"No! They're all men! All men lie! All men leave! My son's left me too!" She wailed, clutching at the baby in her arms. 

You widen your eyes at her confession, becoming too stunned to listen for Hotch. "Kathy… what did you do?" You ask.

"Kathy Burgess, put the gun down and come with us quietly. We don't want any harm." Hotch called to her. You widen your eyes farther. You had her so close why did they have to come in now- 

"No! All you men do is lie! Lie lie lie!" Kathy ranted, hitting the barrel of the gun against her head. "But I won't let you win again." She says darkly. You begin to jump into action, but it was too late. 

As soon as you took another step, Kathy trained the gun onto herself and shot through her chin, splattering blood against the wall. You race over and catch her falling child before it can hit the ground, slamming your own chest in the process. 

You stand up, holding the child, but feel an absence of warmth. You furrow your brow, a pit of worry in your chest beginning to grow heavier as each of the signs come together. 

"No! They're all men! All men lie! All men leave! My son's left me too!" 

You feel a crack form in your heart as you clutch the tiny, blue-faced child in your arms. Tears form in the corners of your eyes. If only you had gotten here sooner. The body was still a bit warm. Meaning she had suffocated him recently. If only you had reached her and convinced her to put him down. 

"(L/N), (L/N) is something wrong with-" you hear Reid begin, causing the hurt in your chest to magnify. You feel your lip tremble as you push past the genius and carry the child down the stairs, never letting go of his tiny body. 

Reid must've taken the hint, as you heard him tell Hotch as you took the stairs to the bottom floor. You had seen your brother in this child. His little curly tuff of hair was something you had only seen in your younger brother. This was too personal. It was like holding a dead version of him in your arms. 

You carried the child out of the house, closing your eyes tightly as the paramedics, who had been called, tried to approach you and take the child. 

"Ma'am, ma'am we have to take him-" the paramedic began to explain, depleting the amount of control you cared to have over your response in an instant. 

"There's no point, she suffocated him at least 5 minutes before I got to her." You answered, snapping just a tad. 

The woman in front of you sighed, directing the rest of her team to head inside. "Ma'am, I'll take it from here." She says, gesturing for you to give her the child. If you were in your normal state of mind, you'd do it no questions asked. But this was different. You held the body even closer to your chest, trying not to cry in front of this woman. 

"(L/N)..." it was Reid. How the hell was he upstairs and then back down to deal with your bullshit? The person you expected to come check on you had been Prentiss. Or JJ of all people. At the sound of Reid's voice, your resolve completely crumbled, and you handed the child to the paramedic. 

"Based on the warmth of the skin and the blueness of the face, he died at least ten minutes before we got here." Spencer started, looking at the back of your head. It was the only way he knew to comfort you in the moment: statistics. 

But that didn't matter to you. 

Spencer sighed, looking at you with sympathy in his eyes. "You… you can cry you know. No one is going to judge you for it." 

That's what broke the dam. You sniffled and turned your body towards his, hugging him tightly almost immediately. You could feel his body stiffen for a moment, almost making you pull back. But then he eased up and laid a hand on your back and one on your head, hoping to comfort you by holding you. He had read that was supposed to be helpful. 

You couldn't help but cry, holding onto him like this. How could your first case go so badly?

○●♡●○ 

By the time you all had arrived home, you were drained of almost everything. You all piled into the bullpen, the eyes of everyone in the room turning to you as they noticed the tired eyes with the darker bags that you wore. 

You sighed and took off your holster, storing it in one of the open drawers of your given desk. You run a tired hand through your hair, looking up at the rest of the team who were equally as tired and bummed out as you were. It was 8 in the morning after all. There had been a delay in getting in the air that had lasted a few hours, making you all late. 

"(L/N), my office, please." Hotch called as soon as everyone was all through and settled into their desks. You exhale tiredly and place your bag down on the desk chair before heading towards Hotch's office. 

You stepped in and closed the glass door behind you. You stood in front of Hotch's desk, nodding to him. "You… wanted to see me sir?" You asked. 

"Yes, (Y/N). Yesterday, you did well on your negotiation. After some reevaluation of the situation I believe you could have gotten Kathy out on your own." Hotch informed, going over the papers. It felt weird for someone to call you by your first name after everyone on the team had been calling you by your last name for the entire case. 

"Thank you, sir." You reply. 

"However, I think the last part of the case got a little too personal for you. I have not looked in your file, but I assume this has something to do with something in that file."

"Actually… Hotch…" you sigh. "I… I saw my brother in that baby. I raised my brother for most of my childhood. And for me to have not reached him in time…" you take a deep breath, avoiding the increasingly obvious sob that wanted to escape your throat. "It was just sensitive for me, sir. I promise, it won't happen again." 

"Since this is your first case, I'll give you a pass. But try to stay focused on the case and not on family matters. Understood?" Hotch clarifies, looking you in the eyes. You can see he's only saying this because he has to. He's flashing you a look of empathy, one you'd been given plenty of times, but never by a man in his authority. 

"Y-yes sir." You reply, the tremor in your voice barely noticeable. 

"Good. Now I expect to see you tomorrow. Go home and try to catch up on some sleep." He dismisses. You nod to him, and shortly thereafter leave his office. 

"Hey." 

You turn your head, brown eyes meeting yours. "Huh? Oh… hey." You reply back, swallowing a sigh as you turn to talk to the genius. 

"Is… uh… is everything alright with Hotch?" He asked. 

"Yeah, he just wanted to let me know how I did and what I could improve on. Nothing much." You reply, forcing your face to stiffen and wipe away the beginnings of tears. But then you remembered what Spencer had said about the voice often betraying the user when the emotion that is felt is strong enough. 

"...Are you alright?" 

You wanted to curse out your own heart for beginning to flutter. Now was not the time to be falling in love with the sexy doctor next to you. 

"I… I think i'll be okay." You say semi-honestly, squeezing your eyes tight. 

"Did you know that it's been proven that talking about one's problems can lead to catharsis, which is a feeling of calmness and relief. Of course… The pain is still there. But afterwards we have less built up feelings and the hurt hurts just a little less." He informed, putting one hand in his pocket and one on his messenger bag strap. You feel the beginnings of a smile form on your lips, making a small bit of the heaviness in your chest ease up. 

"Is this your formal way of asking me for that coffee?" You tease gently. Spencer chuckled. 

"Maybe…" 

"Consider it a date then." You tease again, a small smile staying on your face. You look up at Spencer, not finding any indication that the idea of it being a date turned him off from the idea. "You wanna get out of here?" 

"Sure. My car or yours?" He asks. 

"Why not walk? Less pollution, and we can talk on the way." You insist. 

"Considering the environment before our own needs. I didn't think that many people were like that anymore." He says, walking with you towards the elevator. 

You giggle softly and press the down arrow. "Guess I'm not like most people." And you could almost swear you heard him reply with a soft 'No you're not.' 

You both step into the elevator once the doors open, letting the doors close after you. Sure, you had left your bag inside, but you wouldn't need it till tomorrow. You had a date with your bed after you hung out with Spencer. 

You both walked towards the exit once the elevator doors opened again, revealing to you the main lobby. 

"So when are you going to reveal to me your favorite coffee order? Or are you going to keep that a secret too?" Spencer teased, walking beside you. 

"Oh come on. I told you all I'd tell you my name soon. I just want to make sure this is where I wanna stay, that's all-" you begin, rolling your eyes with a growing smile on your face that soon plummeted when you saw who was in front of you. 

"(Y/N) (M/N) Grant!" 

Both you and Spencer jumped at the sudden sound, and you turned your head at the sound of your full name. You feel fear invade your heart as you recognize the woman who stood in front of you with shoulder pads and make-up that screamed 'I will squash you like a bug'

"Mother?"


	6. Chapter 6

Ever feel like the world just hates you? That everything around you is crumbling? Yeah. That's what you felt right about now. 

"Mother?" 

"Y/N I have had it with these shenanigans of yours! You promised your father you'd take over the family business! We raised you for this!" The woman scolded, storming up to you and getting into your face. 

"H-hey, leave her alone." Spencer spoke up, pushing your mother away from you slightly. The woman then grasped his wrist torturously, yanking him forward. 

"You! I don't know what you see in my stupid daughter, but you need to leave her alone! She has a life, a future! A fiancé! She doesn't have time for you!" Your mother screeched. You felt the blood in your veins boil almost instantly. You had to physically restrain yourself from hurting the woman who gave birth to you. 

"You don't know me, Mother! You never have! I never wanted the damn business! It's what you and dad wanted! Me? This is what I wanted. For years! But no. No, I just have to take the business." You growl, shoving your mother off of Spencer. He didn't deserve to be in the middle of this. 

"What you wanted? Pah! This isn't about what you want! It's never been about what you want! God you're such a selfish child! Always have been! And yet here I thought Peter was a good fit for you-" 

"A good fit?! Mother do you know the contents of those creepy-ass letters he sent me? If I was in the BAU back then, I would have sent these to my director to get him arrested for harassment!" You seethed, your fists clenched at your sides. 

"Oh boo hoo! You have an admirer! He was set to marry you! Do you blame him for wanting you?! The children you two will produce will be the future of our company. And you will listen! You are coming with me back home and you will marry Peter Calvin! And you will finish business school to take over the company-" your mother reached out and grabbed your wrist instead, beginning to try and drag you out the door. You feel a sudden panic enter you, and before you can realize what you're doing, you have your mother pressed against the hard tile ground. 

"I said, NO." You hiss. "I changed my last name because of that bastard. I left home. I got my own schooling. I made a life for me. Not you. And I'm not about to give into your empty threats again." You have your face close to her ear, pulling at her arm. She grunts from underneath you, about to open her mouth and most likely make herself out to be the victim. 

But instead you pulled harder on her arm. "No. Don't you dare. Everyone in this room knows now how much of a bitch you are. Now, I'm going to let you up from this floor, and you are going to lose my number. I will only come around to see Arthur on his birthday and Christmas. He has my number. He can call me. I never want to speak to you or my father again, understand?" 

"You bitch… do you know what you're subjecting your brother to? What responsibility that you're wasting on him? You are a selfish, no good brat. He doesn't deserve the position. You were born to meet this purpose! Not him! He was an accident-" your mother began to snap, standing up once you let your foot off of her. 

"A happy one at that. He was the only solace I had through all of your lies and all of the pressures you put on me. I wish I could forget you. Forget you even exist. But unfortunately you do. But I will live like you don't, just to spite you." 

"Why you little bitch-!" Your mother screeched at you, beginning to make an attempt to lung at you. 

Then Spencer side stepped in front of you, glaring down at the woman who you called your mother. "I think it's time you leave. If I hadn't stepped in, we could have charged you with the assault of a federal agent. Do you know how many years in prison that is? Approximately 8 or more years, depending on the circumstance." Spencer practically spat, glaring harshly into your mother's e/c eyes. The only trait you shared with her. 

"You can't lie to me! She isn't even past being a secretary-!" Your mother insisted, attempting to shove Spencer away. However, he was an immovable force, despite your mother's unrelenting determination. 

"Actually, she just graduated from the academy, making her a federal agent. She works alongside my teammates at the BAU. And in my opinion she has done more good to this world than being the business woman you tried to make her." Spencer expressed, catching you off guard. Did he really feel that way? After only one case? You felt a thumping in your chest, proving your heart to be nervous. 

"But she's-" 

"A valuable member of our team. And I believe we would be sorely mistaken to not take her on as a full agent at the end of her shadowing period." Spencer interrupted, a slight smirk on his face. He crosses his arms, blocking your mother further from getting to you. 

"You-you-!" She growled, knowing she had lost. She snarled harshly under her breath, turning her hellfire-like gaze towards you. "This isn't over-" 

"Yes, it is, Marilyn." You hurled back. 

And with that, your mother turned and stormed out of the building. 

It felt like a massive weight was lifted from your shoulders, making your legs feel numb. Spencer turned around and managed to catch you before you fell, letting you brace yourself against his arms. 

"Are you okay?" He asks. You sigh. Bless this man for being so selfless at a time like this. 

"Does it look like I'm alright? My controlling ass of a mother just tried to force me back to a life I hated." You snap, squeezing Spencer’s forearms to steady yourself. 

"S-sorry… I-I meant physically." 

"No, Spencer…" you sigh, shaking your head. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped. I just… it's a long story. And I didn't expect her to have been able to find me. I did enough hacking to be able to hide myself and my paper trails. At least from the people who used to know me. I'm fine, physically. But emotionally and mentally? That's a whole other story." You felt exhausted. It was like after a long and tiresome journey, the hero had to fight one last monster. 

"That's alright, I completely understand. Do… Do you want me to take you home? I don't think I'd trust you behind a wheel right now." Spencer lightly chuckled. You feel a gentle smile form and you look up at Spencer teasingly. 

"What? Is my amnesia really that bad, doc?" You tease. He rolled his eyes, a smile forming onto his face after seeing yours. 

"If I say yes, will you be a good girl and let me drive you home?" He asks. You feel your cheeks immediately brighten at his words. You had never been called a 'good girl'. Much less had you ever been called it by someone other than your parents. So why the hell did it make you feel certain things? Make you feel tingly? 

You give him a nod, unable to fathom just what the hell he just said to you. He smiled at you warmly, helping you to stand straight as he helped walk you to his car.

What the hell even was this day? This entire week? 

○●♡●○ 

"S-sorry it isn't much." Spencer apologized, unlocking the door and holding it open for you. You smile at him and walk into the apartment. 

It wasn't massive, but it was damn sure fancier than the apartment you and your friends rented. It wasn't without color, but it wasn't overly decorated, like a bunch of rich apartments you'd seen on the way up the stairs. Let's just say some people didn't know how blinds worked. 

"'Isn't much'?" You asked in a scoff, looking around the apartment in a slight twirl. "Reid, it suits you. And you are more than 'isn't much'." You insist, stopping where you were standing. "Besides, it was you who insisted on taking me here instead of my own place."

"Spencer." 

"Hm?" You asked, confused by his sudden mention of his name. 

"You… can call me Spencer. It's only fair now." He added, his voice obviously full of nerves. You feel your heart melt just a little at his indication. You smile at him, happy that he trusted you enough already to let you call him by his first name. Even though you were so hesitant about sharing yours. 

Then that brought about a long, and awkward silence. This had not been how you planned on telling everyone your name. Especially Spencer. And now of course, your mother had to ruin it. 

"Look I-" you sigh, unable to finish your statement. You put your face in your hands and groan, gripping at the roots of your hair. You walk to Spencer’s couch and take a seat, hoping that you wouldn't produce anymore tears. 

Silence passes over the both of you, making it possible to hear the creaking of the floor as Spencer made his way to your side. 

"So… (Y/N), huh?" He asks, taking a seat beside you. 

"Yeah… my mother wanted to name me Gwenevere. But my grandfather was sick of the medieval English names and put his foot down. So they settled on (Y/N) instead." You explain, a slight smile curling on your face as you think of your grandfather. 

"Well… I think it's pretty. It suits you." He says, flashing one of his smiles at you. Yet again you feel the butterflies start to flutter around in your stomach, making you nervous to even speak. 

After a small moment of silence, you were about ready to just stand up and try to get comfortable. Try to sleep. But it seemed Spencer didn't get the memo. 

"(Y/N)... I…" he began. You swallowed a sigh, closing your eyes tightly as you braced yourself for this conversation. 

"It's okay. I get it. You're curious. I'm the 'Mystery Girl'. But there are some things I think you would be better off not involved in." You assure, laying a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. 

"Is there… anything I can know? I know it isn't my place but-" 

"Of course. Just… don't ask about Peter, okay? Or...what made me change my last name." You promise, giving him a half smile. 

"Thank you, (Y/N)." 

"Please, call me (Y/N/N). It feels better than (Y/N)." You admit, raising a hand and rubbing your neck. 

"(Y/N/N)..." he ponders for a moment. " I like it." He flashes a smile, making you giggle slightly. 

"I'm glad you do." You joke, finding you had moved impossibly closer to Spencer and his lap. You clear your throat and scoot a little away. "I...I'd like to get those questions done and over with. Make reliving everything willingly easier to get over with." You give him an unsure smile, looking down at your fidgeting hands. 

"Oh...heh, well…" Spencer too let out a nervous laugh before he began, trying to figure out what to even say. To ask. 

"What's your family's business? Why did you leave?" He asks. You take a deep breath and begin your reply. 

"It's been in my family for what feels like centuries. Really it was founded by my great-grandfather. It got started as an oil company, and then became a stocks and loans company. It's really boring. I never enjoyed looking over the statistics, or any of the graphs my father would try to get me to understand. I… I left for a multitude of reasons. But, one that I can tell you was my parents and their 'dream' for me to own the business. They wouldn't let me go to college unless I went for business. That's why I have the business minor. I had to put up a front, even if I was on multiple scholarships. I just feel bad I'm putting this all on Arthur. If I leave, they're going to try and groom him into taking on the company. He's only ten!" You exclaim, your nails now digging into your palms. 

Spencer immediately took your hands in his, making you stop clenching your fists so tightly. He rubbed his thumbs against your palms gently, encouraging you to continue if you needed. 

"Spencer-" you start, attempting to pull back your hands. He held on strong despite your attempt, shaking his head. "I thought you had a thing for germs-" 

"I do. But I can always wash my hands after this. You need this. And you were hurting yourself. If you need to talk, I'm here." He insists, squeezing just enough to make you feel it. 

"I'm sorry…" you exhale tiredly. "You didn't deserve to have to get involved today. She… she was always under the impression that I left for a boy. That I discarded everything that I 'wanted' for a city boy. And that my goal to work for the Bureau was a fever dream. A fib." 

"That does explain her behavior towards me. But still, she shouldn't have tried to drag you away like that." Spencer expressed, still gently rubbing the indents on your palms. You hadn't noticed it yet, but they had begun to bleed from how hard you were pressing.

"I know. But she's headstrong. Always has been. Once she's made up her mind, god help you if you try to change it." You chuckle, looking away from Spencer for a moment. 

"Sometimes…" you begin, getting Spencer to refocus his gaze on you and, in his opinion, your beautiful features. "I-I begin to think my mother is right. That I'm just some selfish brat who couldn't settle for all the 'good' she was given. That I was just hungry for more privilege than I had." 

Spencer furrows his eyebrows, shaking his head. "No. (Y/N), everything about that is complete bullshit and you know it. You belong on this team. It's where you want to be. There are many studies that show workers who feel a higher calling to their jobs are among the most content in the world. You deserve that, (Y/N)." 

You widen your eyes as each sentence came falling from Spencer’s mouth. Where did this come from? Not that you didn't enjoy this. No, it was the fact that no one had ever told you something remotely similar. With or without the statistics. No one had told you that you belonged. And that did wonders on your heart. 

You feel tears build up in the corners of your eyes, making the world begin to swim for a few brief moments until you blinked them away. 

Spencer reached up and wiped the two stray tears from your cheeks, smiling down at you. "I'm going to make some tea. Does chamomile work for you?" He asks, patting the couch behind you as he begins to get up. The smile you hadn't realized was on your face just grew brighter as you nodded. 

"Yeah… yeah that's fine. As long as you sit here with me. I… I don't want to fall asleep alone tonight." You begged, feeling a slight pang of embarrassment for having asked. 

"Of course, I'll head back down and get your go bag from my car." He assures, placing a steaming cup in front of you. It currently had a tea bag in it, but the smell was comforting already. 

You nod to him in understanding, watching as he went. Once the door was closed, you grabbed the cup and pulled your knees close to your chest. You blow gently on the steaming liquid, letting your mind wander. 

Before you could venture too far into your mind, your phone began to ring. You raised an eyebrow and pulled out your phone, answering with a hesitant "Hello?" 

"Hey yourself my queen! So, I was thinking, the rest of the girls and I have been wanting to go out on the bar scene. We were thinking in about a week. If we don't have any new cases overlap it. Wanna go?" Penelope rambled, obviously excited. You giggle slightly and smile a little.

"Sure, Pen. Is it gonna be a girls night?" You asked. 

"It can be! You want it to be a girls only night, then it'll be a girls only night! We'll talk all about Mr. Junior G Man. And your little crush~" 

"Pen-!" You playfully scold. 

"No take-backsies! Anyway… how are you? I heard what happened during the case. You couldn't have changed the outcome Sugar." She comforts, making you feel cared for for the second time that day. First Spencer and now Penelope. 

"I… I know that. It just hurts is all." You sigh. 

"I know. It hurts me to see all these pictures when I have to pick a case. Sometimes it's so hard to choose because I want to help them all." She confides. "Also, this is kind of unrelated but I love 'Pen' as a nickname. Keep it, please!" 

You finally find the strength to giggle again, smiling wider. "Will do. I should probably go though. I'm tired and I just want to get some sleep. I didn't sleep for four days. I think I deserve at least 9 hours." You snicker. 

"Yes ma'am! I'll call you again in the morning! Rest up my queen! Garcia out!" 

You close your phone and toss it onto the coffee table in front of you, and on top of the copy of Edgar Allen Poe's poems. 

You pick it up gently, moving your tea so as to not get any on the book. You then begin to look through it, finding a few that you enjoyed. 

About 5 minutes later, you hear the door open again, and the wooden floor creaks as you can hear Spencer walking towards you.

"You read poetry?" He asks. You turn your head and see he was very much go-bag-less. 

"Y-yeah. It-s something that has a different meaning every time I read it. It never gets boring." You answer. "Where's my go bag?" You ask. 

"W-well… I took a moment to see if you had anything to sleep in, but you didn't. So…" he paused, handing you an outfit from your go-bag. "I'll just let you borrow one of my shirts." 

Immediately warning lights flashed in your head. Fuck. Was this too soon? No, he was doing this out of kindness, not because he wanted a damn relationship. 

You took the outfit, grateful he had been kind enough to be sure you were comfortable and that you had clothes to change into. 

"No… I really shouldn't-" 

"It's no problem, promise. I have an extra blanket you can use too." He settles, not giving you time to even respond or think about it. 

You sigh, finally giving in and chuckling to yourself. You took a few sips of your tea, waiting for Spencer to return with whatever shirt he had picked out for you to wear. 

He soon returned, carrying an old, navy blue t-shirt that had the words Caltech written across the front in worn down orange text. 

"This is the only one I could find that would be long enough." He informs, handing it to you. You hold it out and look it over. You felt off for accepting this. You felt like he was your boyfriend and you were stealing his clothes. But he wasn't. And you were just borrowing. 

You smile to him and put the cup of tea down onto the coffee table, making sure not to put it on any of the books. Then you stood up and began to look for the bathroom. 

"If you're looking for the bathroom it's down the hall and to your left." Spencer informs as you get up. You turn your head and smile once more at the genius. 

After a couple minutes in the bathroom, you walk back out, absolutely drowning in Spencer’s t-shirt. And here you thought you were somewhat close to his size. 

Spencer looked up from the book you had been reading before and his eyes landed on you and ceased to move afterwards. If he were to be honest, you were beautiful. And seeing you in his shirt made him feel a sense of… well he didn't know. But he had been told it was like companionship. And partially ownership. Like she was actually partially his. But not, in the same way. 

"I know, it's huge." You comment, walking over to Spencer’s couch and taking your previous seat. 

"I wasn't...I wouldn't say that…" Spencer fumbled, sitting back against the couch with the book in his hands. His eyes were on you though. The whole time. They had followed you the entire time since you had walked out. He couldn't keep his eyes off of you. 

"Then… what would you say?" You asked out of temptation. 

Spencer felt a slight wave of panic rush over him. This wasn't too early, was it? He wanted to get to know you better. Especially before he tried anything. But it just felt… right. How could he explain that to you without scaring you away? 

"That… I uh, I'd say you look good. It suits you. The school, I mean." Spencer adds at the end, making you laugh. 

"That so? You trying to get me to go back to school, Doctor?" You teased. 

"That's up to you. Though school is good at opening opportunities to its students. At least college is." Spencer replied. 

You laughed and leaned closer to Spencer, yawning softly. You looked over his shoulder at the poem he had opened, and you smiled. 

"Read me one?" You asked. 

"You...want me to…" he asked, unsure of the clear question you just asked him. 

"Read to me. Please?" You asked, yawning again. "It'll help me sleep." You say, batting your eyes pathetically. He laughed gently and nodded. 

"Okay okay… let's start with this one." He says, adjusting the book so that he could read it and let you get comfortable. 

You snuggled closer on instinct, yawning the biggest yawn you had yet that day. 

Spencer hummed for a moment, before he began to read. "Romance, who loves to nod and sing, with drowsy head and folded wing, among the green leaves as they shake, Far down within some shadowy lake, To me a painted paroquet." He began, his voice like honey for your ears as you rested your head against his shoulder. You couldn't help but wonder what it would be like, listening to him read every night with your head on his chest or with you sitting in his lap. 

"Hath been, a most familiar bird, Taught me my alphabet to say, To lisp my very earliest word. While in the wild wood I did lie, a child, with a most knowing eye." He continued, almost a spell like trance he was casting upon your eyes. You could barely even keep them open as your body finally was able to catch up with you and encourage some well deserved rest. 

"Of late, eternal Condor years so shake the very Heaven on high with tumult as they thunder by, I have no time for idle cares, through gazing on the unquiet sky." You wanted more than anything to stay away for the last part of the poem, but you couldn't. Once you had let your body rest, and finally relax, you were a goner. 

However, he still continued, wanting to finish your request even though he knew you were asleep almost immediately. "And when an hour with calmer wings it's down upon my spirit flings, That little time with lyre and rhyme to while away - forbidden things! My heart would feel to be a crime unless it trembled with the strings." 

He gently closed the book once the final syllable left his lips. He placed the book gently down on the coffee table in front of the two of you, and grabbed a second book. He had read it already, but it gave him something to say he had been doing instead of getting up and disturbing your sleep. But also, to insist that he hadn't watched how peaceful and beautiful you were. And how he hadn't made sure to count the rise and fall of your chest to be sure you were alright.


	7. Chapter 7

○●♡●○ 

It had been about two months or so since your little impromptu sleepover at the resident genius's place. Things had gotten a little better, at least on your part. 

"Hey!" 

You jumped from your make-do desk in your room, snapping your head towards the doorway where a friendly face awaited you. Gabriel had a bag of sweets in one hand and a malt in the other. "Jesus, Gabe you scared me." You cursed, holding a hand to your chest. 

"At least we're even." He points out, putting the malt on the table in front of you. Also inconveniently on top of your written notes for the paper you had to write. You growled and moved the drink, glaring at your best friend. 

"You've gotten even with me plenty of times since then! How many times do I have to say I'm sorry?" You ask in exasperation. Gabriel pretends to ponder your question as he pops a caramel apple sucker into his mouth. 

"Says the girl who didn't call me to tell me she was home and instead decided to stay with the coworker she has a crush on. You didn't even bribe me with details!" He complained, dumping a few sweets in front of you. 

You grumpily grab one of the sweets he had graciously offered and tossed it into your mouth. "It was one time! And I hadn't slept for like, four days! Besides, it wasn't my fault my mother decided to drop by and visit!" You huff. 

"Yeah yeah. You know how much I hate that hag. Nothing against you, sugar tits." Gabriel comments, pulling the pop from his mouth. "But still, no excuse not to call me. Send me a text even. Some proof of life." He grumbled. "That malt is yours by the way. Iris insisted I get one for you while we were out. Couldn't say no." 

You look over at the bright pink striped cup dripping with condensation that created a wet circle on the desk. For being pissed at you for over two months, Gabriel was a good friend. 

You took the malt and started sipping generously. "I'm sorry, okay? What do I have to do to prove it to you?" You ask. 

Gabriel smirked. You hated when he got ideas. 

"Tell me about your night with Mister teacher's pet. Then I'll consider it." He teased, quickly bopping your nose. 

"I already told you. After my bitch mother confronted me, he convinced me to head to his place. I couldn't say no. He eventually read me a poem and I fell asleep. And… he knows my real name now. Happy?" You asked with a groan. 

"Oh come on, that can't be all of it!" He whined, almost like a child about to throw a tantrum for being forced to eat his vegetables. Not that Gabriel was any different. He would fight you tooth and nail if you tried. 

"It is! Nothing else happened! No kiss, no dramatic display of feelings, no nothing. Just a really awkward drive to work." You huffed. 

The thought of the drive was a little hurtful. After the night you both had, well more like morning and you slept through the rest of the day, Spencer had been distant. It didn't last long as a couple days later they all had to get on the jet for another case. Spencer then began to re-warm up to you and now you knew nothing different. Though he didn't try to flirt with you anymore. Not like Morgan. But the previous moments where he had you backed up against the map, or had called you a good girl. He never did it again. And to be honest, you missed it despite how embarrassed you were afterwards. 

"Boo! And I thought you liked the guy!" Gabriel exclaimed, acting baffled at the chain of events in your life. He then shrugged. "More fish in the sea I guess." He teased, obviously gaging you for a response. 

"I do! Just… I'm not as obscenely obvious about it as you want me to be!" You hissed, sucking up more chocolate malt into your mouth with a little bit of a pissy attitude. 

"Well if you were, I'm sure he'd be your teacher's aide boyfriend by now. Now, who's right and wrong in this situation? Hm? Yeah, me. No debate." He insists, putting the sucker back into his mouth. 

"Shut up. I have to write this paper. For my doctorate in social science." You explain. "Just because you stopped going to school doesn't mean I can't go ahead and add another doctorate to my belt." You try to change the subject, hoping Gabriel would ease up on you. 

"You and those doctorates. Are you seriously trying to build a filing cabinet up there or are you just bored with working for the FBI already?" Gabriel asks, flopping down onto your bed. 

"Neither. I just want to know as much as I can in all of my areas of schooling. Be taken seriously." You insist. 

"Boring. Why don't you take classes on making candy or something? That would be seriously cool. And then you can open up your own business just to spite those parents of yours! (Y/N)'s Sugary Sweets, I can see it now!" He rants, hanging his head over the edge of your mattress as he spreads his hands as if displaying the business name. 

You roll your eyes. "No thanks. That sounds like something you should do though. You'd fit right into that role, you know. Candyman." You tease. "Now I really gotta finish this paper." You insist. 

"Fine fine. Just be sure to come down from your academic heaven long enough to eat dinner once Iris is finished." He insists, winking at you before he leaves your room. 

Finally, you had your peace and quiet. But it was weird. The peace and quiet was very quickly becoming deafening by the influx of thoughts. Not the helpful kind either. 

You began to come up blank on ideas for your paper and had more ideas on how you could have maybe done something different to prevent that awkward drive to work all those weeks ago. Where did this uncertainty come from?

You grumble and close your laptop after ten minutes of no progress. Maybe you just needed a break. Then again, it was your day off. And you didn't feel like wishing bad things on someone just so you'd be able to go into work. 

Almost as if the universe had been listening and decided to throw you a sickened bone, you heard your phone begin to ring. You eagerly pick it up, knowing it would be something to keep you busy. 

"Hello, Agent (L/N)." You answer without checking the caller ID. 

"Yes, (L/N) I need you to come in. We have another case." Hotch answers the phone. You feel a slight feeling of excitement strike at your core. Sure, you'd been on 6 cases so far, but you enjoyed being around your fellow agents and putting another unsub away. 

"Do I get any insight, Hotch?" You ask. 

"It's a case in Lebanon Kansas. We have a large group of bodies piling up. We have two suspects we believe are working with each other. We just need to profile them and catch them before they kill again. I'll inform everyone once you've arrived." As soon as he finished, he hung up. He didn't give you any chance to reply. Typical Hotch fashion. 

You stand up immediately, grabbing your bag and your go-bag you had packed at all times just in case this happened. You grabbed the malt you still had and drank the rest of it, grabbing a couple of the caramel apple pops Gabriel had left and shoving them into your pocket. 

You wandered into the kitchen, grabbing a plastic container and putting some of dinner into it. 

"Woah, woah, where the hell are you going so late?" Gabriel asked in a fatherly tone. You rolled your eyes and glared at him for a moment. 

"I have work. Duh." 

"Work? I thought you were off?" Iris asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"I am. But unfortunately serial killers don't care that I'm off. Sorry guys. I promise I'll call you guys once I get back, okay?" You promise, finding a lid and putting it on the tubberware. 

"You better. Or else I'll stick gum in your hair. And not the easy to get out stuff." Gabriel threatened teasingly, taking a quick bite of his food. "Have fun arresting some muttonheads!" He called. 

You chuckle and sling your bag over your shoulder. "Will do!" You reply before you turn around and head out of your shared apartment. 

○●♡●○

"Hey! (L/N)!" 

You turn your head as you arrive to the bullpen. You smile as the eccentric Penelope Garcia raced up to you to give you a hug once you were down the stairs. 

You graciously accepted the hug and turned to everyone else. "What did I miss?" You ask. 

"Nothing much. Only Reid finally showing us another magic trick!" Penelope answered for everyone. Morgan chuckled and Reid blushed slightly. Emily was leaned slightly against Reid's desk, looking at you warmly. 

"Seriously, he's really good." Emily affirmed. You chuckled and walked over in interest. 

"Really now? Show me." You insist, standing in front of Spencer. He looked up at you and did a nervous chuckle. 

"W-well your gonna have to turn around." He says, giving you an adorable michevious smirk. 

"Oh come on-" you begin. 

"He does this everytime, you'll get used to it." Emily adds, laughing slightly as she begins to turn around. 

"Spencerrr… please? For me?" You asked, batting your eyes pitifully. You knew it would probably get you nowhere, but you could at lease try. 

"No." He insisted. 

"Pleaseeee!" You beg again, putting your hands in a clasped position. You even bended your knees slightly to add to the effect. 

Instead of the immediate rejection, he pondered for a moment and stared at you. 

"Come on kid, one person knows a magician's tricks. Let her be your protégé." Morgan suggests. You giggle and shook your head. 

"No really, it's fine. You don't have to show me-" you begin to backtrack, not wanting to force Spencer into showing you. 

"I'll do it. I-I mean… I have to find someone to pass my gifts onto." He chuckles, rubbing his neck a little nervously. 

"Really?" 

"Yeah!" He expressed. 

Morgan raised an eyebrow and stifled a chuckle as he watched you two. He leaned over to Emily who had made her way over to where he stood and whispered into her ear. 

Spencer then told everyone to turn their heads away except for you. Then he began to show you the way he made the mini bottle rocket. He wrapped his hands around yours and helped you with each step. The warmth of his hands spread to your cheeks, and the touch of them sent shivers down your spine. 

"Then turn it upside down and…" Spencer instructed in a whisper, helping you to turn the cap upside down. You watched the foaming top for a few seconds, moving closer towards the unknowing danger of the cap. As soon as it began to jump up, Spencer pushed you back with an inaudible warning. You watched as the bottle skyrocketed and flew fast Hotch's ear. Through this, his hand clutched as your shoulder and refused to leave it. 

"Reid, I thought I told you not to do that." Hotch warned. 

Reid's face grew a little brighter with embarrassment. You didn't know what came upon you then, but you stood up and gulped. "It-it was me. He taught me and I shot it. Sorry sir." You insisted. 

Hotch's lips pulled into a slight smile as he looked back towards you. He didn't say anything afterwards, but you knew he was just teasing you both. "Meet up in the confrence room in five minutes, we have another case." He says after he cleared his throat. You nodded with a cheerful smile and put your bag in your chair. You glanced to Spencer, flashing him a gentle smile before you turned to enter the conference room. 

You entered the room and took your seat, taking the tablet out that Garcia had given you before. "So what do we have?" You asked. 

"We have what is assumed to be over a dozen bodies killed with different MO's and different stages of aggression. The only thing that links them are the DNA from one or both of these suspects; Jensen and Sam Westchester. And boy do they have long records. That's why we were able to find their DNA matches so quick." Penelope answered. 

Spencer took a seat beside you, causing your heart to skip just slightly. "How come we don't have these men yet? Why do they need our help?" You ask. 

"We need to apprehend them. And get a confession. The Kansas state court system has been known to be unpredictable. Sometimes evidence is enough, other times they get off with a warning and community service." Hotch answers. 

"At least they do that." Morgan grumbled. "How come we don't have these guys yet? Are they that slick?"

"Unfortunately yes. They are like Houdini when it comes to busting out of prisons and facilities. The last prison they were held in, one up in Ohio, said they were able to escape through knocking out a guard and switching clothes with him. They were in for a robbery charge." Penelope continued. 

"So why escalate to murder? Unless these murders were scattered." You ask. 

"They are. Over 15 years worth. It looks like they could maybe have more." Spencer spoke up, looking over the picture of one of the more recent bodies. 

"It's quite possible. After all, Harold Shipman managed to get away with 218 proven murders. But they think he could've done as many as 250." You answer, sharing a serial killer fact you found interesting. 

"So we just need to profile these boys and figure out the motive. And if we apprehend them, keep them apart." Emily points out. 

"Why do you say that?" Rossi asks. 

"If you notice the trend in each of these escapes, they only manage to escape when in contact with the other. In the prison they had time to be able to see one another and formulate a plan. Even when in questioning they were able to get notes to each other." 

"Then we'll have to split up and get seperate confessions. These two are brothers, and neither seem to fit the submissive type.' Hotch explains. 

"Two alpha males killing for seemingly no reason for half their lives. This'll be easy to get them to confess and rat out their partner." You say sarcastically. 

"We have to try. Wheels up in thirty." Hotch announces, standing up and leaving the room. 

You sigh and pick up the tablet. "Garcia, can you go ahead and check more than just their juvie records? I wanna have a list of information I can pick from for the profile. Possibly pinpoint some areas of their lives that lead to this behavior." You ask. 

"Oh, but of course Queen! I'll get straight on that. But most of it will probably be sealed." She warned. 

"Unseal those records Garcia. Anything that can help us." Morgan interjects as he grabs his bag and he too leaves the conference room. Garcia nods to him and quickly clicks her heels as she leaves the room. You sigh and pick up your things as you prepare to get onto the jet. 

"You didn't have to defend me." 

"Hm?" You ask, turning to look at Spencer. "Oh, you mean the rocket-thingy?" You clarify. "I was the one to beg you to teach me. Let's just be happy it didn't hit him in the head." You giggle. Spencer looked at you intently for a few moments before he nodded and turned his head away silently. Although it caused you to be uncertain, you brushed it off and walked out to your desk to grab your things. 

As you grab your bags, you feel the small raised bulge in your pocket. You remember the caramel apple pops and smile. At least you could enjoy one of these on the way to deal with a pair of serial killers. Fun. 

You pulled the sucker from the wrapper and popped it into your mouth, beginning your trek out to the jet. As you begin to walk towards the elevator, you notice a pair of hazel eyes following you. You feel a slight burning sensation on the back of your neck and your cheeks as you realized. He looked away once he noticed you were staring back. 

Was he really staring, or was he just spacing out? You hoped it was the former. You were practically begging and praying for it to be. But you knew you'd never be that lucky. 

As you began walking, you heard a jumble of feet behind you and the jingle of things inside a bag getting tossed around. "(Y/N!)" You heard. You widened your eyes and turned around, glad no one besides Spencer had been behind you. 

"Spencer! You can't just call me by my first name right now!" You hissed. 

"S-sorry, I just wanted to apologize if I sounded upset with you. I… I find it honorable that you tried to defend me. No one really does." He explained. You felt your heart melt a little. 

"Spencer… I didn't think that in the slightest." You knew you were lying, but it was going to make him feel better. Besides, it wasn't that big of a deal. "And if that last part is true then I'll be your legendary defender. Like Voltron!" You insist, already beginning to geek out in front of your workplace crush. Way to go, (Y/N). 

"Voltron? What is that? Is it like Star Trek?" He asked, beginning to walk towards the jet with you. You widen your eyes at him and gasp playfully. 

"You, haven't seen Voltron Legendary Defender? Okay, when we get back you HAVE to come over and watch it with me. Afterwards we can watch some documentaries." You insist, practically bouncing on your toes. Spencer looked over you and smiled, unable to tell you no. 

"Sounds like a plan."


	8. Chapter 8

"So how come we all had to get on the jet early, but you two got a few minutes of chatting?" Morgan asked as you and Spencer entered the jet. Your cheeks were a bright red, making you worried you would give away how you felt with one glance. 

"I dunno. We did get here on time though. It's only been 20 minutes since he released us to get our things." You remind, hoisting your bag up your arm and taking a seat. You fiddled with the sucker stick in your mouth, humming gently as you enjoyed it. 

After a moment you looked up at both Spencer and Morgan, who looked at you with surprised expressions. Spencer, on the other hand, had a bright blush accompanying his gaze. 

"What?" 

"Since when did you have a caramel apple pop?" Morgan asked. You chuckled as you pulled it out of your mouth. 

"Since this morning, dumbass. I do have friends I spend my weekends with. Who else is going to keep Gabriel from hitting on every eligible man in the neighborhood?" You tease, laughing slightly. 

Morgan shook his head, widening his eyes for a moment. "to each his own, I guess." He trailed, leaving the conversation at that. 

You put the sucker back in your mouth and looked up at Spencer who had somehow decided standing was better than putting his messenger bag down and taking a seat. You let out a chuckle and pat the seat beside you. 

"Come on, Spencer. I promise, I don't bite. Physically." You tease, letting out a giggle soon afterwards. He looked at you uneasily, but still took the seat offered to him without complaint. 

"Damn, Mystery Girl's got you wrapped around her finger, huh pretty boy?" Morgan asks, narrowing an eyebrow.

Rossi chuckled. "I would say so. You've been sitting next to her for each jet ride to a case and back. Even when the rest of the jet is open to you." He points out, a smirk obvious on his face. You blush and chuckle at Rossi's observation. You nudge Spencer gently to continue teasing him, stopping as Hotch came into the room. What you didn't notice was Spencer's longing gaze that centered on you as soon as your gaze turned off him. 

"Any ideas on the profile?" Hotch asks. "We have two alpha personalities working together. If they're constantly together, we will never catch them." Hotch reminds. 

"Perhaps we should look into their records? They're different men somewhere along the lines. Every pair of siblings are, whether identical twins or otherwise." Spencer explains. You nodded, turning back to the rest of the team. 

"Either we get the more level-headed one to realize the wrong they're doing and slip up, or the more hot-headed brother to go out on his own on impulse. Either way, we have one of them. Once we do, we can find the other. They're not their best without the other." You observe, explaining your ideas to the rest of the team. 

"Sounds like a plan to me. Take away one of the pieces of the puzzle, you can't solve it." Morgan adds. "Garcia, you got anything for us babygirl?" Morgan asked. 

"Yes, I definitely do!" Garcia answered cheerfully. "So your brothers lost their only living relative when they were each 23 and 27. Their dad died of a seizure in the hospital after a large car wreck. Though the murders I've found still occurred before this, but were in less quantity. Something tells me their dad was doing this and trained them how to kill." Garcia listed off. 

"That might've been the biggest stressor. What about the father? Do you know of anything like that yet, Garcia?" Hotch asks. 

"..Yes sir, just found a sealed record from Lawrence Kansas. Apparently their mother was killed by a fire in their home when Sam was 6 months old and Jensen was 4 years old. The similar murders with the connection to their father and them began after that. The arsonist who set the fire was never found." 

"There it is. So their father, grief-stricken and feeling guilty goes out on a murder spree in the hopes that he'll find the monster that took his wife from him. After he died, his sons took over the 'family business'." Prentiss inferred. 

"But why continue the killing? You think they'll stop when they finally find the arsonist?" Rossi asked. 

"Guess we can assume they haven't found him yet. Won't be long till they do. If these two are that good at tracking one another and escaping from prison, they'll find him." Morgan cut in, folding the cover back over the tablet. 

"Garcia, get us some medical and financial records on these brothers. See if we can find anything we can use to draw one away from the other. Anything will help." You ask. 

"Of course my lovelies, I'll get those back to you as soon as my fast fingers can find it!" She promised before she disappeared from the screen. 

Hotch sighed and stood up from where he sat. "Alright. Morgan, (L/N), I need you two to visit the last crime scene. They didn't bother to try and dump the bodies." He began to assign jobs. "Prentiss, Reid, I need you both to talk with the familes, nearby neighbors, etcetera. See if we can't pick up on any of their unrecorded past. Rossi, JJ and I will begin the investigation at the station, talk to the press and try to figure out motive." 

"Hotch, forgive me for not understanding, but, why did they not bother to dump the bodies?" You ask as Hotch began to walk away.

"The lastest bodies were burned, and were found with traces of salt on their bodies. Almost cremated." Hotch answered you swiftly before heading towards the bathroom. 

"Oh… well that's new. Salting and burning? Sounds like something out of a ghost hunter story." You observe. 

"What kind of books do you even read kid?" Morgan asks, laughing to himself and shaking his head. 

"Good ones." You huff. 

"Sure they are." Morgan teased. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms in protest. Sure, it wasn't your most well thought out plan, but it worked. 

"Leave her alone, Morgan." You heard Spencer defend, making you look up at him. 

"Spencer…" you said softly. He apparently didn't hear you, as he soon after continued. 

"She actually reads, which is more than you can say." He almost growled, catching both you and Morgan off-guard. 

"Damn man, I'm sorry. I'll leave it alone, alright?" He promised, holding up his hands in defeat. Spencer grumbled and leaned into the seat, sighing to himself. You lifted your hand and rubbed his arm gently, smiling at him softly. 

What was going on with him today? 

○●♡●○

"So when were these guys found?" Morgan asks as the two of you were lead into the motel room that the previous two victims were found.

"About a week ago at most. Though the autopsy says they died about three days beforehand. Poor bastards." The deputy says, pulling the sheet of the bed back to show you two the gigantic blood splatters on each of the bed frames and the pools in the sheets. 

"Overkill much?" You ask semi-uneasily, giving Morgan a look that he returned with an uneasy nod. "Was the autopsy able to figure out how they were killed? These blood splatters had to have been created when they were alive. This is too much blood for one person to give if they were only being burned alive." You question, pulling on a pair of gloves and getting on level with the bed frame. 

"Yeah, uh… stab wound to the gut for each of 'em. And on the first one, they had to slit his throat before the stabbing apparently. The wounds were all done by the same type of knife, rigged edge with a wooden handle. It isn't retractable." The deputy reads off. 

"Thanks deputy. Hey, by the way, anything on these guys? Why were they together in a motel room?" Morgan asks him. 

"This wasn't their motel room. This motel room was rented under the names Dean Campbell and Jared Winchester. The clerk says they look exactly like their id photos. These guys were tax people. Collectors. The only thing they ever did wrong was accidentally take more change than they were meant to have at the grocery." The deputy insisted. You rolled your eyes. Of course these guys were 'innocent'. But there seemed to be something in their final days that pissed these brothers off. 

"We get that, Deputy. We're just gonna need you to fax our technical analyst a list of all of the suspected victims and proved ones. She may be able to figure out a pattern between all of them other than interacting with our two suspects." Morgan instructs with wider, more understanding eyes. You weren't paying attention as you were looking at how the men were laid back down in bed. Although their bodies had mostly been burned to ash, you should see an outline of ash left from when the bodies were taken to the autopsy. 

After a few minutes, you failed to hear Morgan turn from the deputy and come stalking over behind you as you tried to find any sort of pattern. 

"So, is there something you and Reid wanna tell us?" 

You jump and clutch at your chest. "Damnit, Derek! Don't do that! And no… no we don't." You huffed, standing up to your feet soon after. Derek had broken your concentration, and you weren't getting it back. To be fair, you weren't finding anything otherwise. 

"You sure? Don't think we haven't seen how you and pretty boy interact. Don't lie to me, mama." He teases, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. You fight the urge to roll your eyes, pulling off your gloves and tossing them into the trash. 

"Yeah, I know. Alright? I… just because someone is playful with the other and defends them even when others are teasing them doesn't mean the love is requited." You grumble, realizing what you said minutes after. You quickly cover your mouth and look into Morgan’s eyes pleadingly. Curse you and your big mouth. 

Morgan raised an eyebrow and his smirk grew wider. "So… you admit you love him?" He pries, making you groan. You would try to walk past him, but it would be a lost cause. He would catch you before you got too far. 

"S-so what if I do? Like I said, just because he acts like that around me doesn't mean he feels the same. Alright?" You admit. "Besides, you all have only known me for two months. The only exception being that you, Reid, and Hotch met me once weeks prior. I don't believe in love at first sight." You insist, huffing again as you tried to get your friend to back off. 

"Nuh-uh, you don't get to say he feels nothing just cause we've only known each other for a short while. I saw the kid almost hook-up with Lila Archer after like only a day of pining. I'd say your chances are pretty big, princess." He insists, winking at you. 

You groan and run a hand through your hair. "No, Morgan. I don't want to just be a hook-up. In fact, I don't want to hook-up with him. I want him to like me the way I like him. And that's probably not gonna happen. He avoided me after he drove me home after my first case. It took him having us getting into another case for him to interact with me again. Now I'm done talking about this. Bring it up again and I'm using what limited hacking skills I have to find embarrassing photos of you to show the entire team." You threaten playfully, pushing past him and leaving the motel with a grumble. You got into the SUV and slammed the door once you were settled. 

Were you really that fucking obvious?

○●♡●○

Once you were back at the police station, you and Morgan had come up with a compromise: he wouldn't talk about the crush around the rest of the team as long as you didn't keep any of the interesting stuff from him. Whatever that was. 

You may have also gotten his number off of him for Gabriel. Cause hey, you had to get his forgiveness from not calling him when you had gotten home from your first case. 

"Hey, uh, (L-L/N)." 

You raised an eyebrow as you looked up to the person who had spoken to you. "Hey… Reid, you need something?" You ask, putting your pen down. He nodded and gestured for you to follow him into the evidence room. 

"Okay… uh, what do you need?" You asked, messing with strands of your hair.

"Okay… (Y/N)..." he starts. You instantly blush at the way he says your name. You could only wonder what it would sound like if he were to say it like a prayer. 

"I-I kinda wanted to… screw it." He sighs, rubbing the back of his head exasperatedly. "I shouldn't have avoided you the morning we came back from your first case. I think I just needed some time to take it all in." He answers, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. 

"Hey… don't freak out about it. I'm just glad you didn't run towards the hills once you saw how nutty my mother is. Especially after hearing my explaination." You replied, rubbing the back of your neck in mirror to him. You both laughed softly at how idiotic you both were being. 

"I could never." He insists, giving you a proud but sincere look. 

"Well, you wouldn't be the first if you had." 

You let out a sigh and rub your left arm awkwardly with your right hand. You wanted to say something, anything really. The wedge between the two of you was mending. You just wanted to encourage more than just that. 

"Morgan keeps pestering me for my name." You add after a moment, giggling gently. Spencer replies with a slight chuckle and a blinding smile. Well, blinding to you. 

"I wouldn't put it past him to ask Garcia to look you up." Spencer expressed, chuckling a bit. "I only found out by chance." He laughed. 

You smiled at him, feeling your beating heart begin to soar. "Well… if we're being open and honest with each other like kids, I was already planning on telling you and the team. But then mother dearest found me. I have to make sure that he-" you stopped yourself, sighing again. "That she doesn't do anything to sabatoge this for me. I have the rest of the year to fully make a decision. And once I have, I'll announce my name." 

Spencer looks at you sympathetically. "I… I don't know what it is your sheltering me from. And nor do I know what it--He? Did to you. But you didn't deserve it." 

You hold your hand that had fallen from your neck against your chest. You fought the tears and blinked them away as soon as they began to cloud your vision. "Thank you, Spencer." Was all you could say. 

Spencer smiled at you, reached over and wiped your stray tears. You both stared at the other for a moment, not finding anything else in the world more interesting than each other. 

After a few minutes, you finally broke your gaze and looked down in slight embarrassment. "Uh… i-is there anything I can help you with?" You ask with a slight chuckle. He mirrored it immediately, swallowing a gulp. 

"Y-yeah, could you help me with the geographical profile? They probably don't live anywhere permanently, but I-I'd like to see if there's a pattern." He says, picking up a small carton of pins. "Would you mind helping me?" He asks. You didn't have to think twice. 

"Of course I'll help you, Spence." You reply, picking up a few pins and flashing him a toothy grin. 

Well, at least there was one problem fixed. You just hoped you'd be able to fix the others as well. 

An hour later, once you two had finished placing most of the pins, Hotch came into the room in a hurry. "(L/N). We need you on this one." He insists. You spin around and raise an eyebrow at Hotch's nonspecific request. 

"O-okay, on what? What happened?" You ask. 

"You were right. When we talked to the press and said something to insinuate one of them was incompetent, one of them lashed out. We have him in the interview room now. But he refuses to speak to Morgan or I." Hotch explained. You widen your eyes at Hotch, almost completely focused on his announcement that you barely noticed that Spencer’s hand had raised to the small of your back from already guessing what Hotch needed from you. 

"W-what about JJ? Prentiss?" You ask. Hotch sighed. 

"He said he wanted to speak to the agent who had the 'smart ass plan that got me locked up in here'." He informed with an annoyed sigh. 

Reid was quick to speak up afterwards. "T-that would also mean me, right? Why does she have to interview him?" Spencer asked. 

"He was adamant about speaking to a woman. He almost attacked Rossi and Morgan because we wouldn't adhere to his 'simple' wish." 

You sighed and looked up at Reid, nodding to him. "I'll do it. Just be sure to watch at all times. From what I got from his records, if he's the hothead, he's going to lose his shit if he doesn't get what he wants from me." You say. 

"We'll be on the other side of the mirrored glass at all times, (L/N)." Hotch assures. You sigh and squeeze your eyes tight. 

"I'll do it."


	9. Chapter 9

You took deep breaths as Hotch led you towards the interview room. You tightened your fists at your sides as you ran through your mind how you planned on doing any of this. The last time you'd tried to negotiate with a man like him, it hadn't been pretty. 

"You need to get him angry, alright? That's his weakness. Figure out which of the archetypes he is. Get as much as you can out of him, but do not under any circumstances let him speak to anyone or manipulate you. We will switch out with Morgan to watch over him in an hour. Good luck." Hotch readied you, giving you the files you needed. You clutched the manilla envelope against your chest, trying to calm your ever racing heart. 

You nod wordlessly, facing the man in the see through mirror. He was wearing a red flannel and a black shirt underneath paired with ripped jeans. He had hunters boots on as well. He had a bruise forming on his jaw and a fresh cut that was bandaged on his forehead. 

Morgan stepped up behind you, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "You can do this, kid. Promise. Don't let him get to you." He insists. You nodded shakily, looking up at the man again. 

You turn towards Morgan with a determined look. "Just promise me you won't interrupt. Even if he tries to attack me." You insist. Morgan widens his eyes. 

"Princess, we can't do that. If anything goes wrong-" he began, unable to find the right words to fill the gap. "You could get hurt. And that's paperwork." He adds with a sigh. You giggle and shake your head. 

"Morgan, we both know paperwork isn't what you're worried about." You tease before you turn around and find the handle to the interview room. Here goes nothing. 

You walk in, closing the door behind you. As soon as you turn around to do so, you hear a whistle from behind you. 

"Damn… and here I thought they'd be sendin' in some prissy princess. How you doin'?" The man asked. You swallow. This was exactly how you expected him to treat you. You'd had experience with narcissists and manipulators before. This was the first thing they did. 

"I don't know, Jensen." You greet, grateful you had stolen a glance at his profile and which one of the brothers he was. He smirked at you, leaning forward and biting his lip flirtatiously. "Why don't you tell me how you're doing with all of these murders. I mean, it has to get to you somehow. All that blood on your hands… all that guilt… unless it's just fun for you." You ask, smirking at him as you changed the subject. Jensen's face shifted slightly, twitching at how focused you still were at getting these answers. 

"Sure it's fun. But I only do it cause I have to. You know… I'd stop if I had a girl like you…" he insists, attempting to reach across and touch your chin. You back away slowly, just about enough to make him think you were playing hard to get. You batted your eyelashes and threw your hair behind your shoulder. 

"Oh really? You would?" You asked, pulling out a photo. "What about that brother of yours? Sam, right? What's he like?" You ask in a flirtatious tone. Jensen yet again shifts a little in his seat, uncomfortable that he was losing control of the conversation. 

"Hey, Sammy can't even get it up half the time. All the girls he fucks he kills afterwards. I'm better, trust me." He insists, winking at you from where he sat slouched in the seat across from you. He bit his lip a little harder and hummed gently. "Man… you know, if I didn't have these handcuffs on I could show you a pretty good time…" he trails, giving you a seductive look. Had this been over five years ago, this flirting would have seriously got you. No one had ever flirted with you this way. Not even now. But after all your experience with secret motivations behind smiling masks, you knew better. 

"Oh yeah? I thought you were… more the kinky type. Let a girl think she's in control for a good little bit." You ask, purposely shifting in your seat to slightly pull up your skirt. Your plan has been working so far. Hopefully Morgan was keeping his promise. 

Jensen licked his lips and looked you up and down. "I'm guessing this ain't your first rodeo, is it, princess?" He asks, giving you a flirtatious glance. You bite back a disgusted groan that would've fallen from your mouth if the situation were different. 

You giggle and hold a hand to your mouth. "No, no I'm afraid it isn't." You tease. Jensen flashes a white smile you're sure has charmed plenty of women in his past into his pants. 

"Good. I like women with… experience." He flirts back. "You think I could get a beer in here? Some whiskey?" He asks. 

"How about you answer a few questions for me, big boy? Then maybe I'll let you ask for a few things. Of course, within reason." You remind, winking back at him. Jensen leaned back in his chair and pondered what you offered. 

"Sure, lay it on me, Baby." He allows, nodding to you. You let out an undetectable sigh of relief before you start up again. So far, so good. 

"So… Jensen… how would you describe your relationship with Sam? Strong? You get along good?" You ask, internally groaning at how much you sounded like a therapist. 

Jensen seemed to share this sentiment and let out a groan for you. "Geez, you sound like a goddamn shrink." He grumbles as he sits up. "Yeah… me and Sammy are always by each other. I practically raised him. He's my baby brother. What do you expect? Some people say we're codependent on each other but, really, who are they to judge?" He shrugged, looking at you. 

You nod, looking through the information. Just as you begin to open your mouth to ask another question, Jensen slightly hits the table. 

"Nuh uh, sweetheart. You asked me a question, so I get to ask one too. Am I right?" He clarifies, giving you a shit-eating grin because he knew he was right. You sigh and nodded, closing the file for a moment. Jensen smirked and leaned forward towards you. 

"How come we ain't on a first name basis yet, hm? You know my name, what's yours sugar-tits?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. You swallow gently. 

"My name is Agent-" 

"No-no-no-" Jensen interrupted. "I mean your real name, sweetness. You know, the name mommy and daddy gave you when they signed that slip of paper." He insists, pressing a finger into the table. 

You sigh. "I can meet you half-way and give you my middle name-" you attempt to compromise. 

"No, damnit!" He growls, slapping his fists into the table. "I want a damn name! No name? No answers, bitch!" He yelled in your face. You swallowed all the nerves building up in your throat, clearing it for a moment. 

"Alright, alright, calm down. Or we'll have to detain you again. And then you won't get the chance to hear my name or potentially strike up a deal, you hear me?" You ask, biting the inside of your cheek just barely. 

Jensen seemed satisfied with your answer, settling back into his chair. 

"They call me (Y/N)." You answer after a quiet moment. Jensen smiles greedily. 

"(Y/N), huh? You don't hear that one everyday."

"No, you don't. Now… Jensen. Can you tell me, what exactly you and your brother were doing when you decided to kill these two men?" You asked, pushing the pictures of the crime scene in front of him. He rolled his eyes.

"They were tax guys. We didn't wanna pay tax, is that too hard to get, baby?" He asks with a chuckle. 

"No, I figured that. No, what I want to know, is why you decided to pour salt on the body once they were already dead, and set them on fire?" You questioned. Jensen began to protest but you held up a hand. 

"I'll let you ask two questions once you answer me." You promise, pointing at one of the photos. He sighed and leaned back. 

"Ain't I allowed a lawyer?" He asks. 

"Not since you escaped prison and are not a legal, non-incarcerated citizen. Sure, you will receive an attorney for trial. But I doubt a lawyer will help you here. I'm your best bet at being able to strike up a deal." 

Jensen grumbled, looking around the room, still refusing to answer. You nod as you begin to take mental notes. 

"Ah I see. This all has to do with the man who burned your mother, doesn't it?" You ask him, catching him off guard. 

"Wha-?! How did-?" He began. 

"We're the FBI, Jensen. Not some local police officer you can convince you were just experimenting how to build a bonfire and try to tell me they got just a little too close. You see, your mother was salted and burned too. But I bet you knew that. That man assaulted her in your brother's nursery and started the fire. You reserved that method for him. But you couldn't remember whether the man was blond haired, or dark. So you killed them both the same way. Didn't you, Jensen? You and your brother got caught up in your daddy's little business-" 

"Shut up-" Jensen growled. 

"And now you can't stand to let him down. To break the promise you made to him-" 

"Shut. Up." He hissed. 

"And you brought your little brother into it too because you couldn't face all the guilt all alone. Because you're afraid of being abandoned. Despite all the ways you have to fill up that void: Drink, Sex, Money, you know that you can never be satisfied." You insist, leaning closer to Jensen as you begin to raise your voice. 

"Shut the hell up, bitch!" He attempted to shout over you. 

"You can never be satisfied because all you are is daddy's little pawn. And without him? You see no purpose for yourself-" 

"Son of a bitch-!" He growled, slamming his fist into the table again. "Shut the fuck up before I make you-" 

"Then answer me this one question, Jensen." You insist, standing up as he does. 

"Why should I-?" He roars. 

"Cause I know you never wanted this. That you wanted a regular family. And I can find that family you tried to hold onto." You insist. It was a long shot, but you had to try. 

"What the hell are you talking about-?!" 

"Men like you, who have broken homes, broken families with deadbeat fathers, they try to start over. Try to be the man their father wasn't. And I can see that you fit right into that, Jensen. You tried to have a family. You desperately tried. But you were too sucked into this second life you had that you had to choose. And you regret it. Now, tell me where your brother is, and I'll find them for you." You promise. 

Jensen widens his eyes in shock, as if he was surprised you could get all of that from just this little interview. He tensed up and took his seat again, twitching with anger and disbelief. "You're bluffing… she… Daneel moved on from me. Changed her name. You can't find her." 

"I bet that I can. I'll find them and let you see them again. If you tell me where your brother is." You restate, calming your voice to a caring tone. He leaned forward and put his face in his hands. 

"There's an old factory we both head to… when one of us gets caught. It's down south of Lebanon. He'll be there. Now you better find her for me. Or I will strangle you here and now-" he began to threaten. 

"I wouldn't lie about that. You'll see her. You'll see your brother too. Just behave, and I may be able to get some visiting privileges worked out for you." You promise, collecting the files again and head towards the door. 

"(Y/N)..." 

You turn your head as you hear your name. Before you can even reply, he finishes his statement. 

"Thank you." He says just barely audibly. You smile gently and nod to him before you leave the room. 

Once out you exhale your hardest, taking in a similar inhale. That, was a lot. 

"Damn… how the hell did you get all that? How did you… even do that?" Morgan asks, helping you up from where you had unknowingly leaned against the door. 

You shook your head, smiling somewhat. "I… I trusted my gut. I've unfortunately dealt with guys like him. And the one thing they treasure is something they know they can never have." You explain, looking up at Morgan. 

"Well still, you did a good job staying calm in there. I mean… Hotch and I didn't know whether or not you were seriously flirting with him or not." Morgan chuckles. 

"Yeah well… sure he was handsome but, he isn't my type." You reveal. Morgan smirks and nudges your shoulder. 

"Yeah, cause your type is 6'1 and a gigantic nerd. Who by the way, couldn't stay in the room watching the interrogation after you started flirting with him. You should've seen him, all red faced too." He grinned. You widen your eyes at his reveal, doing a little blushing of your own. 

"Really?" You ask. 

"Yeah, kid. But seriously… (Y/N)? You've been holding out on me princess! Why didn't you tell me you had a name like that?" He teased, leading you out of the room and towards the rest of the station. 

"Well… you can call me (Y/N/N). I go by that more often by friends." You insist. Morgan chuckles. 

"And we are most definitely, friends." He says, holding up a fist for you. You giggle and give him a fist bump, walking with him back out to where Hotch and the rest of the team were. 

"We all need to split up and take different entrances to the factory. He probably knows the building better than we do. Once we're in, we'll corner him. Without his brother he is vulnerable." Hotch explains, unaware Morgan was walking up behind him. 

You look down and pull your skirt back into place. You didn't need anyone thinking you were trying to get some. 

"So Hotch, what's the plan?" Morgan asked. 

Hotch turned around and faced the two of you. "I'm having Garcia get the layout of the factory now. There's only one down there, so we have to assume that's the one Jensen meant." 

"Great work, (L/N)." Prentiss says, smiling at you. 

"Thank you." You respond. "I… just trusted my gut. Hotch?" You spoke up. The man in question turned his head towards you. You sigh and begin to speak up. 

"I called Garcia to find her for you." Rossi interrupted, smiling at you. "I'll put it on my record, so you can still have a clean one." He promises, winking at you. 

Hotch nodded. "Yes, we'll get in contact with this Daneel. If any pop up in his history, we'll call her down to see him. Now we need to hurry. Jensen may have a way to tip off his brother. You need to change out of that and get down to the factory." He says to you. 

"She can change in the car with me." Prentiss insists. "Like you said we don't have much time." 

"Alright. (L/N), you ride with Prentiss. Let's go." He says, prompting all of you to head towards the doors. 

○●♡●○ 

"Damn, (Y/N), where have you been all my life?" Derek asks as you both come back into the station, followed by the rest of the team. 

They had managed to apprehend the brother. Turns out that Sam had been contemplating suicide and when you had told him he could see his brother again, he gave in. So he was much easier than his brother. 

"I dunno, Morgan. Probably hidden under all the other chicks you had to take out first." You teased, giggling a little as you all took a seat (and or leaned against the wall, as was Morgan’s thing.) 

Spencer, on the other hand, chose to head into the evidence room instead. You raised an eyebrow, confused. 

"Hey, uh… is Reid okay? I mean, he was the one who got the guy in handcuffs. Did you see him though? He had to be at least as tall as Spencer." You chuckled. 

"Why do you say that?" Prentiss asks. 

"Did you not see him skip this little after case review? He went straight into the evidence room. I've never known him in the two months that I have, to go clean up evidence boards before talking to all of us." You point out. 

"He's probably just jealous." Morgan teased. You furrow your eyebrows and wack Morgan’s arm. Morgan smiles and winces playfully in pain.

"I thought you promised me you wouldn't talk about it!?" You hissed. 

"Ooh, talk about what?" JJ asks, taking her own seat instead of standing. Hotch smiles softly and chuckles. 

"The obvious crush Ms. (L/N) has on Reid." Hotch spoke up. 

You whip around faster than the swivel chair can as you look at Hotch in surprise. "Don't tell me he told you!" You whined, your blush making a reappearance on your face as you cover them. 

Hotch chuckles and lets Rossi take over his defense. "We all know already, kid. You aren't exactly slick about it." He says with a chuckle of his own. 

"You all suck. Capital S." You grumble. 

"Hey, I didn't do anything about it." Prentiss points out. "Though sure, I may have said something about Reid…" she trails. You groan louder. 

"Seriously? How obvious have I really been?" You ask. "And be honest with me please." You insist. Each of your team members looked to one another before they each said: "Very." 

You let out a frustrated growl and lean back in your chair. Morgan chuckled as he put a hand on your shoulder. 

"Kid, you weren't slick." He admits. 

After a moment, Morgan gets an idea and smirks. "So… does he know your name?" He asks, wiggling his eyebrows. 

Prentiss and JJ gasp for a moment, smiling at you expectantly. A third gasp joins them, causing you to crane your neck to find out where it came from. JJ turned her phone around and showed Garcia's caller ID. You should have known. 

"Come on kid, is it safe to tell us yet?" Morgan asks, smiling genuinely at you. The most real one you'd gotten thus far, you think with a grumble. 

You sigh as you begin to grin from ear to ear. Guess you weren't getting out of this. You had finally been able to let your guard down around the team. You felt welcomed and not like a burden. So you said it. 

"My name is (Y/N). But you all can call me (Y/N/N)." 

A few shrieks from Garcia's end were quickly heard then silenced through the volume button of JJ's phone. Prentiss smiled at you, sitting back gently. 

"Really now? Never thought I'd say it but I never pegged you for a (Y/N)." She commented. You snickered. 

"Yeah, well, you can thank my grandfather for that one. He insisted my parents name me something normal. Or at least something that wasn't Gwenevere. So they compromised on (Y/N)." You laugh, bringing a few more members of the team with you. 

This was home. You'd only known a true home one time before this in your life. And this was it. This is what home was to you. Not a random apartment, not some desk job, this. This work family you'd built up for the past two months. 

You just hoped you hadn't screwed up with Reid again.


	10. Chapter 10

If you were honest, you didn't sleep much that night. Too much was on your mind. Namely a specific Doctor. 

You stared up at the terrible, obnoxious, and stupidly carpeted ceiling. It was a silly pattern you'd expect to be in a cheap motel that most likely had bed-bugs. Not one that was considered 'decent'. 

You had tossed and you had turned over and over for the past hour. The way Spencer had completely ignored you after the interrogation irked you. You kept getting mixed signals from him. Was he just jealous? Did he just not want to see his friend sexualize herself? Or was it just embarrassment that you were his coworker? No matter how much logic you applied to the situation, the latter seemed to be the truth. And that hurt you to no end. 

Were you really so much in the wrong for Spencer to think badly of you? You'd think he'd be one to understand that people make mistakes. Or that you have to do some things to get to the end goal. And that not all of those things are pretty or something a 'lady' should do. 

But then the other portion of your cerebrum began to ponder whether or not you were just overthinking this. That you had only known each other for two months. Over that even. And you remembered every waking moment. 

After staring into the void that was the ugly ceiling, you sat up with a huff. This was ridiculous. You weren't going to be able to sleep whatsoever if you didn't resolve this. At the very least put the self-doubting part of your mind at ease. 

You stood up from the terribly hard mattress and grabbed your phone. You adjusted your shirt and the way your pajama pants looked before you exited your room on a mission. 

You brought up the memory of Emily giving you your room number and overhearing Spencers. Room 206. 

You locked the motel door behind you and headed towards the door in question. Thankfully his room wasn't too far away from yours. 

You finally reached the door and without fully thinking about the time and whether or not knocking on someone's door at fucking 3 in the morning was going to piss them off, you knocked three times. 

And then that's when the doubt set in. Immediately you began debating on what was the safest escape route. The side of the building was closer to Spencer’s room than your room was. Maybe you could just ditch the doorbell and hide behind a bush like a child. 

But of course, as soon as you had made up your mind, the knob miraculously turned. And a few moments of nervous panting later, he opened the door, giving you a curious, but genuine smile. 

"Hey, (L/N). You need something?" He asks. You narrow your eyes at him. He was asking something so off the obvious elephant of a topic that you knew he was avoiding it. 

"Yeah, I'd think coming to your door at 3:02 am means I need something, Spencer." You tease. He chuckled back and smiled a little easier. 

"I'm listening." He promises, his gaze focused seemingly on your eyes. 

"Heh. Well… first off, why are you even up? And don't give me the excuse that I woke you up. Because you are a dead heavy sleeper." 

"Guess you caught me." He says. His body language was completely different than what his eyes and words were telling you. He was looking at you warmly and greeting you kindly like a friend. But his body language was more hesitant, almost like he was trying to keep himself from doing something. 

"Guess I did." You trailed as you pondered over your newfound observations of the tired Doctor. "So? Why are you up?" 

"I...can't sleep." He admits with a heavy sigh. 

"Really? Well, I guess we're both insomniacs." 

Spencer lets out a gentle laugh and looks down towards the floor. "I suppose we are."

You laugh gently with him for a few more moments, before you both fall back into silence. You look away from him after a build-up of embarrassment just as he turns to look you in the eye. You were both so damn awkward. 

After a couple of seconds, you didn't know where it came from but a strong surge of confidence pushed through your veins. 

"Look… Spencer…" you begin, looking up at him. His ears seem to perk up at your starting tone, finally looking you in the eyes. As you stare into his hazel eyes, you feel the nervousness of talking to him melt just a little. You could do this. 

You take a deep breath and continue. "I don't know what I did, exactly to warrant you ignoring me yesterday. I get that seeing someone you're close to doing something like what I did, probably was as embarrassing as it was for me to do it knowing you all were watching." The blush on your cheeks brightened and you could feel how warm they were. 

Spencer turned his head slightly to the side, his eyes narrowing as he began to try and understand what you were saying. Before he could say anything in response, you continue your statement. 

"But I don't want our job to drive us apart. Cause… I kind of like this dynamic we have. I like being your friend and I like talking statistics and facts. Especially when we both know that the rest of the team won't understand. It's the best way to mess with them." You begin to laugh as you continue, your eyes never leaving his. 

"I-I do too…" he admits, smiling down at you. He wanted to say so much. So much was on his mind that he wanted to tell you, but he knew you had to say your peace first. Otherwise he'd be talking over you.

"I don't want to lose this. So… let me make it up to you. Let me bring you over to my place this time. I'll let my roommates know not to bother us and I'll show you Voltron or something." You suggest, sighing through the last few words. "Please. Don't push me away. You're the one person I've met in the last five years I haven't wanted to push away so they didn't get too close." 

You immediately realize what you said, causing your rapid inhale to stutter. You desperately hoped he wouldn't take it the wrong way. Even with as much as you wanted to tell him here and now how you truly felt, you knew you couldn't until you dealt with your mother. She had ways of torturing you and the people around you that you didn't want to be used on your newfound family. So for now… you had to keep it on the down low. 

Spencer's gaze got as soft as it could get and he smiled his brightest. "People with abandonment issues, whether being abandoned or doing it themselves tend to have a harder time choosing and keeping friends. So… I'm glad to have made that cut, for you." He expressed. "And… I would gladly have a vol...tron marathon with you. With or without your other friends." He assured you. 

And in that instant you felt as if the entire world was lifted off your shoulders. You had been so nervous that he was going to reject your attempt at making up. Guess that was what you got for assuming of people. 

You smiled and pressed a hand to your chest. "Thank you…" 

Spencer nodded slightly, his smile still present on his lips. After a few moments he widened his eyes and looked around. "Do-" he started, watching as your bare shoulders shivered a bit. "Do you wanna come in? I made coffee." He asks, an extra chipper tone in his voice as he began to prioritize your health. 

You chuckled. "Sure, Spence. I'll come in and have some coffee. As long as you don't start going crazy and bouncing off the walls when you're slap-happy." You couldn't help but tease, nudging his shoulder as he let you in. He grabbed a nearby blanket and wrapped it around you as you did, chuckling to himself as you teased. 

"I never got the idea of 'slap-happy'. The dictionary definition is 'casual or flippant in a cheerful, almost inappropriate way' but in recent years it's been used to describe a lethargic person unwilling to sleep." He asks, pushing the door behind the two of you closed. 

"I dunno where I even got it. I just kept hearing it used like that in my childhood. Guess it stuck." You pondered, taking a seat on the motel sofa. "So, where is this coffee you speak of?" You ask, putting on your most childish smile. Spencer’s gaze never left you, bringing him to a bright smile as he watched you. 

"Heh, I'll go get you a cup. Sugar?" He asks. 

"Three whopping spoonfuls, Spence. No more, definitely no less." You insist in a fake posh voice you definitely didn't make up just now. 

Spencer couldn't help the loud laugh that echoed out his mouth as he went over to the kitchen counter with the coffee maker. "Sure thing my lady." He played along with a chuckle, taking out the coffee pot and a cup to pour it into. 

He couldn't ignore you in hopes these feelings would go away. They weren't going to. He couldn't even get through 6 hours, 37 minutes and 43 seconds without talking to you. Or at least being near you. He couldn't sleep without knowing you were okay. Without seeing you before he went to bed. There was no use in ignoring these feelings. They were there, no matter how much he wished they weren't, for your sake. 

He was glad you took it as him being uncomfortable with what you had to do to get information from the unsub. Sure, it had caused a fire-like jealousy that burned in his chest. But that wasn't why he left. He left because a part of him imagined it was him getting to flirt with you. Getting to see under your skirt if he leaned back in his chair enough. It was perverted, and you didn't deserve that. 

He let out a gentle sigh and added the creamer and the three spoonfuls of sugar to your cup, letting his worries wash away. He had feelings. And sometimes those feelings lead him to the bathroom in hopes he wouldn't give it all away to you when you returned from interrogation. 

"One extra sugar-y coffee for her highness." He says, chuckling as he gave you your cup. You giggle from his own fake-posh voice, taking the cup as he hands it to you. 

"Thank you, Spencer." 

Spencer’s heart could have stopped right in this moment and he wouldn't be happier to see you smile as happily as you were. You trusted him. You wanted to be friends with him. If that's what he could have for now, it's what he would take. 

○●♡●○ 

You were groggy that next day when you got onto the plane and got home. The time you spent filling out the report for the case was mostly full of you and Spencer sending each other psychology memes through email when no one was watching, and waiting for the other's reaction. One you ended up sending him made him laugh so hard he nearly fell out of his chair. So despite feeling groggy, you felt victorious. 

"So… you wanna tell us what happened between you and boy-wonder?" Morgan asked, leaning against the counter in the lounge area of the bullpen as he drank his second coffee of the day. 

"Nothing! We just… talked. And now we're good." You answered vaguely, knowing the hell that would break loose if Morgan or Garcia even knew what you felt last night. Even if it was most definitely platonic, (at least that's what you keep telling yourself.) You couldn't deny how many times you actually thought about kissing him. 

"Nuh-uh, mama. You ain't gonna get away with just a touch and go." He teases. You rolled your eyes playfully, a smile pulling harder onto your face. Morgan grinned. 

"Kid, that face alone tells me something happened. Spill. Or I'll go talk to pretty boy and get my answers from him." He playfully observes and threatens. 

You widen your eyes and gently push against Morgan’s shoulder. "Hush. Nothing happened. We just had a chat at like 3 am over the coffee he made. And I fell asleep on the couch in his motel room, alright?" You giggle as you remember the night. Miraculously, you didn't fall asleep on his shoulder and trap him. You were glad for that. 

"Uhh uh… and I'm a superstar wrestler." Derek teased, taking another sip. 

"Who's a wrestler?" Emily asked, walking into the lounge with an empty coffee cup. 

"Apparently Derek is because he keeps insisting that something happened last night when nothing did. Spencer and I just had a chat. Nothing more, alright?" You insist, hoping Emily would be more on your side. 

"Alright, whatever you say kid." Morgan gave up, drinking the last bit of his coffee before washing it. "Have a good night, (Y/N). See you tomorrow." He bids you farewell. You roll your eyes again and wave him goodbye. 

Soon after Morgan left the doorway, Spencer replaced him, obviously looking for you. Emily looked at you once she realized who you were looking at. She smirked and nudged your shoulder.

"What?" You ask, seeing Spencer coming towards you. 

"You got it bad." She comments, immediately sending your cheeks into a bright red fury. 

"Who's got it bad? Is it allergies?" Spencer asks, making you sigh with relief that he was so innocent in those departments. 

"U-uh…" you start, seeing Emily watch your misery with a smirk on her face. You make a mental note to get back at her for this later. "Yeah, talking about u-uh… allergies. I get them bad." You finally answer, feeling stupid for taking the low-hanging fruit. 

Spencer, thankfully, didn't say anything and instead shrugged. "Well, I hear the over the counter medication Aleeve can help with that." He offers, clutching at the strap of his bag. You smile at how cute he was in his cardigan and tie. Always formal. 

"Yeah, I need to try it. A-anyway… you ready to go?" You ask him, walking away from Emily. You already knew she was giving you a teasing look from behind you. It was best Spencer didn't. 

"Y-yeah, I uh… was coming to get you actually." He says, looking into your eyes with the widest and most adorable fucking smile you'd ever seen. You felt a bit of yourself melt and flashed him a smile in return. 

"Really? Okay then, let's get going to my car. Unless you don't want me to drive to my own place." You tease, reminding him of how insistent he had been when he had offered to take you home. He chuckled, obviously remembering the memory. 

"I think it would be better if you drove. I haven't visited just yet." He answers, beginning to walk with you out of the lounge and out of the bullpen. 

"Good, so at least this time I don't have to worry about rain in my car cause I always keep a small part of my driver side window open for air. " you tease again, walking beside him to the elevator. 

"That… is a terrible idea. There are more opportunities open to people to steal your car than for your car to stay cool from an open window." Spencer expressed, giving you a look of disbelief. 

"Hey, it's a habit." You say, pressing the down button on the elevator. 

After a few minutes, you begin to feel a nervousness build up in your belly. The last time you left together, your mother had greeted you with her fake face and fake cleavage. You couldn't help but feel a little deja vu. 

Spencer looked over to you, having found something else to say. He noticed the gentle indent in your cheek, making him slightly smile at how cute it was. He reached out his hand and rested it on your back once he made sure you knew what he was doing. 

"I doubt she'll be here, (Y/N). The probability of her being here after two months, 1 week and 3 days is very unlikely. If she does, the office has been notified to arrest her on sight." Spencer assured, rubbing your back gently. You sighed again, a smile forming on your face again. You felt strangely assured as you felt the warmth of his hand against your back. It was even better knowing he didn't do this for everyone. This was going to be okay. You were going to be okay. Even if your mother decided to be a bitch and try and come back for you. 

"Thanks Spence." 

Spencer nodded as the elevator doors opened, prompting the two of you to begin your walk to your car. 

"So… tell me about this 'Voltron'..." Spencer prompted as you both entered the parking lot. You giggle and wrap your arms around your sides. 

"Man, you are so behind on the times." You commented, unlocking your car and climbing into the driver's seat. 

Spencer joined you in the car, promptly bumping his head against the ceiling of the car. You gasp softly and fight off the urge to laugh. 

"What are you, a gnome?" He groans, rubbing his head. You finally laugh, leaning over your steering wheel. 

"Try lowering the seat. It's one of the notches on the side." You tease in a mixture of laughter and giggles. 

Spencer smiled at your reaction, putting the seat down and putting his seatbelt on. You pushed through the rest of your giggles and started the car. 

"Oh… uh, just as a fair warning, my roommates they… can be a little much." You turned towards him and warned. He shrugged. 

"I'm sure they aren't that bad, (Y/N). I mean, we hang out with Morgan and Garcia all the time. How much more weird can they be?" He asks. "Considering the probability, not very likely." 

You shook your head and laughed. "Alright, let's see if your theory is correct, Doctor."


	11. Chapter 11

You walked up the stairs with Spencer walking behind you. You two had chatted over nerdy tv-shows you both watched the entire drive to your apartment. You didn't think you could fall in love anymore than you had, but you were wrong. Very, very much wrong. 

The way he had smiled as he talked to you over his favorite scenes in Doctor Who and which of the doctors was his favorite, it made you wonder how you could ever see him differently. You guessed you never would. 

"Okay okay… so you're telling me you want me to explain Voltron again?" You asked, laughing softly to yourself as you turned to face Spencer once you made it to your floor. 

"I still don't understand the plotline. You explain it from a biased point of view, having seen it already. That's probably why I can't understand it." Spencer expressed, a smirk obvious on his face. You rolled your eyes and giggled slightly.

"Oh hush. Leave me and Shiro alone." You huffed, laughing a little harder. You finally made it to the door and sighed, looking up to Spencer. 

"Okay… so… like I said, my roommates are… weird."

"So?" Spencer added, raising an eyebrow at you. 

"So… this is a fair warning." You laughed, unlocking the door and letting it swing open. 

Immediately the barking of a small dog entered your peripherals. You widen your eyes and raise an eyebrow. 

"The hell?!" You exclaim, moving in front of Spencer as you tried to figure out who's dog this was. 

"Sorry (Y/N/N)!" You hear from down the hall. 

"Gabriel I swear to god-" 

"Gabriel?" Spencer asked from behind you, clearly confused. 

You sighed and shook your head. "I'm so sorry, he does these things so randomly--I'll deal with this, you just take a seat." You ushered Spencer towards the couch before turning around towards your friend who ran after the terrier that was bouncing between you two. 

"Gabriel, you wanna tell me why the day I come back from a two day case, telling you I have somebody coming over, you impulsively decide to get a dog?" You ask, crossing your arms and glaring at him with narrowed eyes.

Gabriel laughed and rubbed his neck. "Look, (Y/N/N), you weren't there. He was just begging to be adopted and spoiled! So… I may or may not have done just that." He finally concludes, smiling down at the dog between the two of you. 

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, shaking your head. You turn around and face Spencer, gesturing towards Gabriel who now had picked up the dog and was getting his face licked off. "You wanna question whether or not my roommates are weird yet?" 

Spencer chuckled softly to himself. "No, I don't." He laughed. You let a smile creep onto your lips before you turn back towards your best friend. 

"Okay… just… potty train him. And don't feed him candy, please. Just cause that's your diet doesn't mean it's gotta be his." You smiled at him, giving him a compromise you knew he could handle. 

"Alright alright, whatever you say mom." He teased. He looked over and looked at Spencer, smirking immediately. 

"Wait a minute…" he began slowly, walking over towards him. You widen your eyes. Shit. Gabriel recognized Spencer! Gabriel was unpredictable with how he used information. You just hoped he knew the dangerous waters he was going to tread if he said anything about how you felt to Spencer. 

"You're that student teacher guy (Y/N) met our day of finals, aren't you? The guy she said was from the BAU?" He asks, a gigantic smirk plastering itself almost permanently on his face. You were dead. He was going to reveal everything and you were going to drop dead of embarrassment. 

"I-I uh… I believe there were three of us. Two of my coworkers and I. I would need a significant amount of more information to tell you for certain." He insists, resorting to his statistics for when he got nervous. 

Gabriel chuckled. "No need, I saw you two nerding out together that day. I'd be able to point you out in a crowd bud." Gabriel put the terrier down onto the ground, watching it as it tried to get your attention. You smiled down at the dog, picking it up and reacting to how much it weighed. 

"Jesus, what was that shelter feeding you?" You ask it, letting the dog lick you. 

Gabriel watches you for a second before he turns back towards Spencer. "Alright, listen up before she decides to put Mjolnir over there down." He starts, gesturing with his thumb towards the dog. 

Spencer blinked a few times, backing away from Gabriel's suddenly serious gaze. He stayed silent, wary of what this roommate of yours wanted. 

"If she gets hurt, in like any way shape or form while on the job, I'm blaming you. Keep an eye on her while I can't. She's a stubborn ass, but I care a hell of a lot about her. So watch over her, will you?" He almost hissed into Spencer’s ear. 

The relief that washed over Spencer was immediate. He had thought Gabriel was jealous. Or that Gabriel wanted to get rid of him. He was very glad to know that wasn't the case. 

"She can take care of herself, you know." Spencer mistakenly responded. Gabriel opened his mouth to retort, only for you to turn around. 

"What did you say his name was?" You asked, making Mjolnir wave his paw. 

Gabriel put a smile on his face as he straightened his posture. For a short guy, he was seriously intimidating if he wanted to be, Spencer pondered. 

"Mjolnir." Gabriel smirked. You rolled your eyes. 

"You and your norse mythology kick." You teased, beginning to play with the dog for a few more moments. 

Once you weren't paying attention, Gabriel turned back to Spencer and gave him a death glare. "Okay, Yeah, she can defend herself. But sometimes, she can't. So I'm counting on you," he emphasized by poking Spencer’s chest. "To protect her since I can't. From more than just physical stuff. You're around her more than me, bucko. We clear?" Gabriel whispered harshly, giving Spencer a terrifying smirk. This was your roommate? He was afraid to find out who your other roommate was. 

Spencer nodded, managing to hide his nerves. Gabriel smiled normally afterwards turning back towards you. 

"Okay Gabriel. You know as much as I'd love to hang out with you-" you begin, handing Mjolnir to him. 

"You and Teacher's Aide got a night of nerding to do. I get it. I'm just gonna go crash at Cassie's place. I'm kinda jealous. You two get to watch fun cartoons while I gotta deal with my brother and his husband's eye-fucking." Gabriel teases, playfully shoving your shoulder. 

Spencer widened his eyes and looked up at the two of you, severely confused. Surely he hadn't actually meant… 

You laugh as you notice Spencer’s expression, causing you to shake your head. "Have a good night, Gabriel." You say in the mix of the laughter. He nodded and gave you a half salute with two fingers. 

"Use protection kiddos!" Was the last thing he says as he leaves the apartment, dog in hand. 

You feel your cheeks brighten significantly as you hear Gabriel's last comment. Damn him. You really thought you were going to get away with it. 

When you looked towards Spencer, he didn't seem to be doing any better than you in terms of the embarrassment from Gabriel's inappropriate comment. You let out a shaky laugh and take a seat on the couch a little aways from Spencer. 

"So… you really wanna question whether or not my roommates are weirdos?" 

Spencer finally let out a hearty laugh, leaning his head against the back of the couch. You instantly followed, neither of your fits of laughter ceasing for a few good minutes. You made sure to lock that memory in the good filing cabinet. You really didn't want to forget the way he laughed just then. He was too precious for your dirty self.

"Is he always like that?" Spencer asks, still somewhat laughing. You smile at him, wiping away the tears that had formed from such hard laughing. 

"Yeah, he is. You get used to it though." 

Finally, after a couple of minutes, both of you were calmer, but it wasn't as awkward as you had expected it to get. He was just, smiling at you. And you were smiling back. It felt right. And before you knew it, you were as close to him as you could get without actually getting in his lap. 

"Uh…" you began, noticing your predicament that you'd put yourself in. He seemed to notice after you did, but made no effort to move. And since he didn't, you didn't either. 

"Um… you wanna watch the new Voltron or the old one? There's no storyline connection to them like a sequel, so you don't have to watch that first." You began to change the topic, hoping to dear God that he wouldn't bring up how close the two of you were. 

"I believe the one that's your favorite you will enjoy more. So we'll watch that one." He insists. You groan. 

"Come onnn! This is supposed to be your choice! Just choose one. 80's cartoon or recent stuff?" You plead, clasping your hands together childishly. Spencer let out a short burst of laughter, shaking his head. 

"The newer stuff. Whichever one has this Shiro in it." He teases the last bit. You growl at him and huff. He laughed again, admiring how adorable your mad face was. 

"Fine. Voltron Legendary Defender it is." You settle, turning the tv on and selecting the Netflix icon. 

Halfway through the first season, Spencer was thoroughly enjoying himself by cheering for Pidge and pointing out inconsistencies in the technology. But you didn't care. He was having fun. 

"How could Lance fall for that? That's the first tactic any unsub would use to get away with something. He was too focused on getting in an alien girl's pants to notice he was obviously getting deceived." Spencer interjected one you paused the show to get some food for the two of you. 

You laugh and snicker a little to yourself. "Remind you of someone?" You prompt. 

"Yeah, Morgan. With significantly less brain. cells." Spencer insisted, making you laugh harder. 

"Hey, Lance has his good points. You'll see." You insist in return, turning around and handing Spencer a bowl of ice cream. "Sorry, we only have vanilla. Gabriel ate the rest of the Rocky Road." 

Spencer looked at the bowl for a moment, chuckling softly. "This is totally fine. Though I prefer mint." He adds. Your generosity was baffling him. Not many people offered to feed him when he came over. It all just added to how beautiful you and your soul was. 

"Ah. Well then I'll get some the next time I go to the store. I'll even padlock it so Gabriel doesn't eat it before you visit again." You promise, putting the ice cream away and grabbing the bowl you made for yourself. 

"That wouldn't be necessary. I wouldn't want to deprive Gabriel of his sugar." Spencer added with a sarcastic tone. You both sat down, laughing as you did. 

Your laughter slowly ceased and you looked up at Spencer as you put a spoonful of ice cream in your mouth. Spencer watched your lips the whole time. He wondered if they were cold from the recent spoonful of ice cream you had eaten. Or if they were still warm. He wondered how soft they would be. They had to be soft, he pondered. 

You just kept staring at him, and it made his heart pound a little faster. You took another spoonful, him watching the whole time. Then his thoughts traveled to less than innocent things. How that mouth would look on him, sucking him dry- 

Spencer turned his head and coughed, embarrassed of his own thoughts. He couldn't think like that. But how could he not? He was stuck here with both a half hard problem that thankfully would eventually go away on it's own, and with another 'problem' he couldn't tell you about. He just wanted to kiss you… was that too much to ask for. 

So Spencer picked up his already melting ice cream and began to finish it off. The two of you passed glances at each other as you did, causing you both to equally blush or giggle. 

Once you both had finished, you still hadn't started the show again. As you reached to put the now empty bowl of yours on the coffee table, Spencer noticed you had traces of ice cream on the side of your lip. He snickered and scooted closer to you. 

"What?" You asked with a giggle. Spencer looked down at you and chuckled. He reached up and wiped away something from your chin. 

"You are a messy eater…" he commented sprightly, giving you a loving look he hadn't realized the value of. You did though. Neither of you knew which of you moved first, but soon the two of you were inches away from kissing each other before there was a knock at the door. 

You both let out a hard sigh, upset that whoever this was interrupted the two of you. 

But in reality, you were kind of glad. You didn't know how to treat a relationship right now. And you knew that you would be putting Spencer in danger if you made anything official. No matter how much you desperately wanted to have that kiss, no matter how badly you wanted to ignore the door and just pull him into a heated kiss, you couldn't. 

"I uh… I'll get it." You announce a little less loud as you had spoken before. You scooted away from Spencer for a moment before standing up from the dark couch. 

Spencer watched you as you walked. He wanted fully to both kick his own ass and the ass of whoever decided to knock right fucking then. You were leaning closer, right? You wanted it? The kiss? Or were you just in so much shock that you didn't move? 

Spencer knew he couldn't do this right now. He shouldn't have even tried to kiss you. He wasn't ready. He wasn't sure he was right for you. Was it too early? So many questions danced through his head he didn't notice at first the gasp that passed your lips when you opened the door. 

You had opened the door to a small white envelope that had been stuck in your door. On the front was neatly written '(Y/N) Grant' in sickeningly recognizable cursive. You felt like a rope was coiling around your chest and starting to pull tight. No. You had escaped him. You changed everything about yourself to escape him! He couldn't have found you. 

Your breathing grew harder and harder, your heart began to pound faster and faster. Tears poured from your eyes and rained on the carpet below. This couldn't be happening.

Spencer noticed you hadn't come back over, so he turned his head to encourage you to come back. As he did he watched you fall to your knees on the floor in the doorway. He jumped up immediately, running to your side. 

You jumped and backed away from him slightly from the sudden touch. You shook heavily with your nails digging into your arms. You rocked back and forth in an attempt to calm the raging panic coursing through your body. Your blood felt like it was going to explode your veins. Your heart felt like it would burst underneath your crushed lungs. You couldn't get any air to pass your lips as much as you tried. 

Spencer cautiously got closer to you, sitting in front of you. "Hey, hey (Y/N), it's okay, it's okay, I'm here." He assured, gently touching your arm. You slightly flinched but didn't fight his touch. You felt your throat closing, causing you to panic efficiently more. 

Spencer grabbed both of your hands and spoke gently to get your attention. "(Y/N)... hey, look at me." He began, getting you to face him with your terrified eyes. 

"That's it (Y/N/N). Now I want you to focus on breathing, okay? Nothing else. In… and out…" he instructed, squeezing your hands reassuringly. 

You managed to swallow a gulp as you tried to breathe. You trusted him. And he was all you could see in the midst of the panic and memories that kept screaming in your head. You finally began to attempt to take a breath. 

You sucked in a shaky inhale, squeezing his hands tightly. After a second, you let it out just as broken. Spencer seemed satisfied. 

"Good, you're doing great (Y/N/N). Can you give me another one?" He asked you. He was focused solely on calming you and getting you to breathe. He would ask you about the letter he saw in the corner of his eye once you were ready. 

You nodded and began to try and take another breath. You did this for a few minutes, just breathing with Spencer. You could feel the panic slowly trickling away. With each breath the rope loosened and you could finally breathe completely. 

You leaned closer to Spencer and practically launched yourself into his arms. He wrapped them around you immediately, although a little hesitant. You buried your face in his neck, hugging him tightly. Sure, you two hadn't shared a hug yet--but this was different. 

Spencer rubbed your back gently, encouraging you to continue to let out your tears. He hated seeing you like this. Whatever that letter reminded you of was obviously hard for you to comprehend. So he didn't push. 

You sniffled and began to hiccup once your tears were spent and having soaked Spencer’s cardigan. You told yourself that you would have to buy him another one eventually for this. 

"(Y/N)... are you okay?" 

You sighed, thankful he was so caring. How had he not even asked about the letter yet? You know with how bad of a curiosity you had you wouldn't have been able to put it off if someone else had gotten one. 

"Ye-No. No, I-I uh… I'm not." You sniffled, using the collar of your shirt to dry your dry tears as you hiccuped. You turned over to the letter, hating it's very existence. 

"This… he…" you began, hiccuping afterwards. "It's from my stalker."


	12. Chapter 12

_"Are you sure about this?"_

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_You take in a heavy sigh as you adjust the tan trench coat around you. You nod, holding back bitter tears._

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_"This is for the best, Arthur. I can't marry him. If I stay as a Grant any longer than I have to, he'll kill me. Or use you as leverage to make me change my mind. I can't let him do that." You insist, your (h/c) hair flowing in the wind outside the Atlantic City Airport._

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_Your brother looks up at you with tear-stained cheeks. Being only 6 years younger than you made him 14. But he was wiser than he should be. He shouldn't have to lose his sister like this. But it was for the best. That was what you kept telling yourself._

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_"B-but… what about Mom? A-and Dad?" He asked worriedly, his hands picking at the expensive leather jacket that you had passed down to him once he had turned ten. "Don't you want to at least say goodbye to them?"_

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_You grit your teeth as a few choice words threaten to surface. Thankfully, you swallow them. He didn't know. You made sure he didn't know. All he ever knew was that Mom and Dad were always 'busy'. He didn't need to know anything else._

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_"No, Artie. I don't want to say goodbye to them. They're busy. I don't want to interrupt their meeting. It's just you and me right now." You explain as calmly as you can, giving him the most genuine smile you've ever given someone. You put a gentle hand on his shoulder, pulling him into a hug. He immediately reciprocates it, squeezing you as tight as he could._

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_"I'm gonna miss you sis." He whimpers into your shoulder. For a kid his age, he was pretty tall. You softly let out a chuckle. He would be taller than you in a few years._

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_"I'm gonna miss you too, little man. If things calm down, I'll reach out. I'll call you. Promise." You say, holding out your pinky. Arthur sniffles and wipes his tears with his sleeve. He then extends his hand and intertwines his pinky with yours._

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_"You better not forget me." He insists, letting out a soft chuckle. You laugh softly back, cupping his cheek motherly and wiping away the fresh tears._

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_"That's impossible, and you know it." You tease, gently pressing a finger to his nose. "Be good. Do what you're told. And follow your dreams, okay? No matter what Mom or Dad say is your destiny, make your own." You beg, squeezing your brother's hand for the last time._

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_"I will. I love you, (Y/N)."_

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_"I love you too bud." ___

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○●♡●○ 

"You're what?" Spencer asks in disbelief, his weathered hands never leaving yours. His naturally focused eyes were now confused and frantic, trying to make sense of the words you just uttered to him. 

"M-my… my stalker. The part of my past I...I didn't want to get you into. I didn't want to put you in danger." You repeat a little quieter. Most of you wanted to curl up in a ball and die. At least then Peter would stop. 

"You had" Spencer stopped himself, letting in a small gasp of disbelief. "--have, a stalker, and you didn't think this was important?" He asks, his voice raising a notch. You flinch and try to pull your hands back on instinct. 

Spencer widened his eyes and immediately calmed his voice, taking your hands back into his. "I-i'm sorry, (Y/N). But please… why didn't you tell me?" He asked gentler this time. You let out a nervous breath and close your eyes, attempting to open the file in your brain you so desperately wanted to erase. 

"It… it might be better if I just tell you everything. I-if you'll listen to my sappy life story…" you insist, squeezing his hands for comfort. His touch was keeping you grounded for now. At least you had him. 

"O-of course, (Y/N). B-but you don't have to. I-I mean… if this is going to hurt you then I don't want you to feel like you have to-" Spencer began to ramble, his hazel eyes weighed with worry. Just like Arthur's. 

You stop him with a squeeze of your hands and take a deep breath. Here goes nothing, you think. 

"7 years ago, I-I turned 18. My parents are very old fashioned. And they believed that since I was already going back to college and trying to be my own woman since I graduated with my doctorate in psychology that year, that they would arrange me a marriage." The words tasted foul in your mouth, almost making you want to spit them out. Spencer still listened, though he did look at you with a look of concern. 

"His name is Peter Calvin. The real-estate broker and investor. At 22 he was vastly rich. And he had everything he wanted. Except a loving wife who doted on him hand and foot. He's a narcissistic bastard who believes he deserves everything he wants. So as you expect, when I turned the proposal down instead of listening to my parents, he was livid. It began with letters. Like this one." You explain, gesturing towards the almost identical envelope next to you. "He would send me gifts, trinkets that I always threw away. No matter how many times my parents arranged for us to meet and try to get along, I always pushed him away. So then after three months, he escalated. He began to call my phone 27 times a day. Blew up my phone with texts. Filled up my email box with 10 or more a day. After that didn't work he began to threaten me. All the while he sent me letters. He would… detail our future together. He even detailed how I would bear him a son first. That we'd name him Oliver. Then I'd bear him a daughter. Name her after his mother." You felt your chest beginning to ache and your heart to pound as fast as a locomotive. 

All the while Spencer listened on in the horror of the past you had gone through. This stalker of yours was easily just like many of the unsubs they'd apprehended. Spencer had never had a personal connection with them till now. His eyes were opening to a different side of things. But he stayed quiet, wanting to let you finish your story before he made any attempt to say his piece. 

"Eventually he resorted to threatening my brother. Said that he'd kill him and my family if I didn't say yes. So… I said yes." You bit your lip, looking down as tears and a sob came tumbling through you. Spencer pulled you closer to him, embracing you in his arms to allow you to cry. You clung to his cardigan, not caring as much about replacing it this time. 

After a few minutes of ugly sobbing, you sniffled and pulled back, wanting to finish the rest of the story. "A-after a year o-of engagement and physical abuse from him I couldn't take it anymore." You let out a half sob, your voice breaking like glass. "S-so I stole a bunch of his money with his credit card and bought myself a ticket down here to Virginia. Gabriel lived down here, and I called him. He offered me a place to stay as long as I went to school and got the education I deserved. So I came here, changed my last name, number and even my social security number. Never looked back." You insist, squeezing Spencer’s forearms where your hands had fallen after he had held you to let you cry. 

You let out a long sigh, the tears drying up and tired hiccups were all that remained. "After a while, Gabriel qualified to go into training for the bareau. And I found out I was too. So we both applied. The rest doesn't matter. Just… know this is all sealed stuff. You're the first person other than Gabriel and my other roommate, Iris, to know. I put myself in witness protection to get away from this man. And now…" you trail, unable to finish your own statement. 

"(Y/N)..." Spencer spoke, barely a whisper. He didn't know what to say. You just shared with him yet again something no one else on the team knew about you. You trusted him with this. 

"I-I know… an FBI agent afraid of some real estate guy. How unique." You laugh bitterly, slowly pulling your knees closer to your chest. 

"Actually, I think you were actually brave for making the right decision for everyone, not just yourself." Spencer expressed, still looking at you in shock. The probability of what was in that letter couldn't be good. If they touched it, their DNA would be on it. This was evidence. If they could only find his and you're DNA on it, they could say that you both forged the note to frame Peter. And Spencer wouldn't allow that. 

His blood felt hotter than melted iron and his face felt stiff. His jaw locked in place as anger began to fuel him. He had heard this man's name before, when your mother said it to you. If only he had known the impact just saying it had on you. He was angry at Calvin. But also at himself for not deducing that something like this was happening. 

"(Y/N)... you kept everyone else safe at the cost of your own comfort. This-This isn't right. He should be in jail for ever touching you like that!" He exclaims, being careful not to raise his voice. 

"Yeah, except his lawyer is the best. His lawyer was able to convince the judge to revoke three protection orders I had filed against him. If I even tried to prosecute him, I'd just get thrown in jail instead. I… I'm just gonna have to change everything again. I'll change my w-whole name this time. Change my hair, move again. I don't think I'll even be able to afford one let alone lease one…" you began to ramble, panic quickly rising into your voice. 

It was Spencer's turn to silence you with a squeeze to the arms. You look him in the eyes, tears beginning to start another cycle. He reached a hand up and cupped your cheek, wiping away the stranded tears. You stared into his eyes, gazing up into hazel hues. 

"Hey… I'm not gonna let you lose everything you've worked so hard for. You are not gonna let him dictate your life. We're gonna bring this to Hotch, okay? Then for now, you'll live with me." 

You snap your gaze back towards his eyes after they drifted. Was he serious?! 

"Y-you can't be serious, Spence. You shouldn't have to-" 

Spencer placed a gentle thumb over your lips and shushed you. "I want to. You need to find a place to stay for now until we get him in custody. So... I'd say my place is safest."

You sniffled a little more, swallowing a lump of gathered excuses in your tightening throat. "A-are you sure about this, Spencer? You don't have two bedrooms, sure I can sleep on the couch…" you began to ponder. "But I'm messy sometimes. Annoying most of the time. And I am most definitely not the most pleasant person to be around in the mornings." 

Spencer chuckled and pressed a kiss to the creases in-between your eyebrows. You blush like a cherry as you stop in your tracks and stare up at him in shock. "You were pleasant to be around when you stayed over last time. Even if you end up a grouch who doesn't like socializing before 8, I still want to help you with this. You're… You're my friend." 

At this, you threw yourself into his arms, hugging him tightly. You knew deep inside that you really shouldn't be letting him help you. He could get killed, or even kidnapped because of his involvement. But right now, some help was better than no help at all.

"Thank you…" you whisper, squeezing your arms around his neck. Spencer hugs you tightly close to him, slightly burying his head in your shoulder.

"Anything, (Y/N)." 

○●♡●○ 

Hours later, the two of you sat in front of the letter, staring at it and pondering whether or not you should open it. Spencer had grabbed a paper towel and moved it to the coffee table. 

You had already called Gabriel and let him know of the situation. He said he called a few of his buddies from his job to watch over the apartment building for the night. 

You were now leaning against the tall doctor who was hunched over next to you, equally pondering the same question as you. But probably better than you. 

You were exhausted and tired of all the fear and panic. Your eyes were still puffy and you found yourself sniffling every few minutes. 

Spencer seemed to notice this however once he moved his gaze from the letter to you. "The handwriting, although made to be elegant, is bold and erratic. He wrote this in a hurry." He attempted, looking back up at you for approval. You took in a heavy breath and nodded, sucking in your bottom lip as you sigh it out. 

New approach, Spencer thought. 

"(Y/N/N)... I-I think you should get to bed. Try to sleep. We think our best when we're well rested, even in situations like this." He suggests, placing one of his broad hands on your back. 

You feel like crumbling underneath his touch from all of the stress. "I don't think I can even try to sleep…" you whimper, leaning closer to him for comfort. "Not alone…" 

Spencer frowned down at you. He rubbed your shoulder as he'd seen Morgan do to Garcia. You were hurting. And he didn't know how to fix it. And he was a damn profiler. A doctor. Where was all his knowledge now? 

"W-well… what if I came in and laid with you. Would that help?" He asked, turning to look at you. 

You thought the suggestion over. Having Spencer Reid in your bed would have normally made you blush like crazy, and made you insist that life was kidding you. But this was different. And as much as you loved Gabriel, he wasn't the type to stay and comfort someone. He cared, sure, but he didn't know how to truly sit and listen to your problems. He was usually the one who offered you a safe place to cry. And wouldn't judge you for it. Spencer, you knew was different. 

"Yeah… yeah I think I'd like that…" you reply, biting the inside of your cheek. Spencer smiled at you warmly, sprouting a couple butterflies. 

Spencer then stood up and helped you to your feet. His arm wrapped around your middle as he guided you back towards the bedrooms. 

"Now your going to have to direct me to which one is which." He comments, looking ahead at the three doors at the end of the hallway. "I think I'd rather not walk into someone else's room and see something I'm not meant to see." He teases, smirking at you. You let out a small chuckle and smile gently, getting Spencer to squeeze you closer. 

"It's good to see you smile." He says. Although it got darker the further into the hallway you both ventured, you could still clearly see the love in his eyes as he looked at you. 

"It's the door on the right." You instruct, gesturing to the door to your bedroom. The room you would soon be abandoning. 

Spencer took out the edge of his shirt from underneath his cardigan and used it to open the door, making you stifle a giggle. Spencer then helped you inside, easing you into your bed. He turned around and closed the door, leaving you to get comfortable in bed. 

When he turned around he was met with you curled up in a coocoon made of your comforter. He couldn't help but chuckle as he came over and sat next to you. "I don't suppose you'll be sprouting any wings any time soon, will you?" He teases, scooting closer to you. You huff, some of the blanket falling off your shoulders. 

"Shut up, Genius." You tease back, smiling at him as you do. 

"No, I don't believe I will. Especially since I just got you to smile." He reveals with an eyebrow raised and a smirk, as if it were a game changing thing. You roll your eyes and nudge him, yawning softly. 

"Yeah? Well I think you're gonna get me to fall asleep with jokes like that." You playfully retorted. He laughed and hugged you closer. 

"Then my job will be easier than I thought." He teased back. You shake your head and lean it against his shoulder hesitantly. You feel him tense up for a moment, almost too long of a moment. But just as you were going to lift your head up, he loosened up, letting you completely rest your head on his shoulder. 

"I...is this okay?" You ask softly, taking in a hard breath. 

"Yeah, definitely. You just get the rest you need. I'll be here." He promised. It was then you finally decided to let your guard down and begin to sleep. 

You feel his warmth radiating from him, lulling you to sleep along with his gentle touch. He had found a way to hold you through the blankets, and you didn't mind. His thumb caressed your arm as you felt yourself drifting off, easing your fears even more than they already had been. 

You had every right to be scared. To be utterly terrified. And you still were. But he made it easier. You began to second guess your own decision not to tell him how you felt. He was here with you when you knew that not that many people would do this for you. Hardly anyone on the team. Garcia and Prentiss might be good for a good cry and pep talk, but that wouldn't have eased you any more than just talking about what your plan of action was with Spencer. Morgan would probably hold you if you asked. But the bedroom was a no-go. JJ was a mother, so she would probably just offer you something to eat to get your mind off of it all. Hotch and Rossi were different people, but you didn't peg them to be cuddlers like this. Spencer was out of his comfort zone with you. And he made no attempt to make it known that he was uncomfortable with it. 

You didn't know where you wanted to go from here, other than heading to the BAU tomorrow and asking Hotch for help. But for now, you needed to relax. 

So instead, you eased your breathing and began to focus on the quiet hum of the air conditioner, and the gentle kiss to the forehead that you felt just as you drifted away.


	13. Chapter 13

Slowly, but surely you began to waken from sounds next to you. You assumed this was hours after you had fallen asleep, but you weren't sure. 

You still felt Spencer’s warmth under your head, though this time you could tell there was a large increase in sunlight coming through the window. 

You could smell a small trace of mahogany wood surrounding you, and feel a hand present on your side. 

After waking uo a little more, you could finally make sense of what was being said. "Yes, Jared I get it. I don't have a second person listed on my rental agreement. However I promise that she won't cause trouble. She will just be staying on the couch. Please, Sir. She has to have a place to stay and a hotel won't be enough." 

You groan softly, looking up to see Spencer with a phone to his ear, his gaze away from you. Curious, you lay your head back down on his shoulder to listen to the rest. 

"No, Jared, listen. She is not my girlfriend. You won't have to worry about noise complaints. Please, she needs this. I'll even pay extra each month." Spencer begged to the man on the other line. 

A small twinge of hurt ached in you're chest as you listened on. Sure, you knew you weren't his girlfriend. You weren't his and he wasn't yours. Though that didn't stop you from wishing it could somehow be possible. 

Then your mind got to work making you feel insecure. What if he wasn't interested in you at all? What if everything you thought were advances, were merely misunderstandings on your part? The idea hurt more than you thought it would. 

But then what was that kiss pn the forehead last night? Would a friend actually do that? Especially if you were clearly half asleep? No. Which was what made your head ache even more. 

After a few minutes of worrying and being stuck in your own head, you began to sit up from your laid position next to Spencer. Spencer immediately noticed and began to adjust for you to get comfortable. 

"Sorry, thank you for thinking about it. Yes, please call me back once you've made a decision. If I don't answer I'll call back as soon as I can. Thanks." He finished, flipping his phone closed. He stretched partially, watching as you yawned and began to stretch your arms. 

"Sorry about that. Had to make sure everything would work out for you to stay with me. Although it was hard at first, I believe we're good to go." He says cheerfully, his arm behind you to help ease you to your feet. 

You stand up and yawn again, feeling the immediate weight of your bones. You felt like gravity had decided to weigh especially heavy on your shoulders and make you gain a thousand pounds. You were barely able to take a step forward without heavy concentration. 

"Hey-hey, take it easy." Spencer stood up as he saw your stumbling limbs. He turned and stood in front of you, trying to get you to sit. "Proper rest can boost your immune system. It helps prevent heart disease and inflammation, and it can reduce stress. It's also been proven to help sharpen your memory." You couldn't help but chuckle at his last line. 

"I'm fine, Spence. Really. I don't need my memory to get sharper." You began, not feeling strong enough to protest against the movement. 

"I know you are. But I know what it's like to feel everything you've done to heal is for nothing." Spencer’s eyes stared into yours, echoing empathy for you. 

You let out a strong sigh and sit down as Spencer instructed you. You stayed silent, pulling your knees to your chest. This wasn't what you wanted for a Saturday morning. You had wanted to wake up to Gabriel singing obnoxiously loud in the shower and then gotten coffee from the shop nearby before heading off to work. 

But no, Peter Calvin just had to resurface. 

Spencer also stayed quiet alongside you, rubbing his hands together nervously. He cleared his throat and sighed. "I… I could just call Hotch and tell him your taking a personal health day and we could tell him tomorrow. You can't make good decisions without enough rest. And I can see that your body severely needs it." He expresses, firming his gaze. You swallow hard and shake your head without taking the time to think. 

"No… we need to… to get this case to Hotch. The sooner we work on it the sooner we c-can get him behind bars and I won't have to worry about him again." You insist, trying not to erupt into tears that you'd have to wait to dry before you could go into work. 

"...alright. Just take it easy for today, okay? Let me know if you need anything." He says. "I'll drive your car to work for you. You just need to rest." 

"Okay… just, let me get dressed and we'll head out." You finally agree, standing up once more to get dressed. Spencer stood up behind you, watching you as you left to head to the bathroom. 

Once the door closed behind you, he let out a sigh of his own. He wanted nothing more than to comfort you. He didn't quite know how to, but he was trying with what little knowledge he had. What he did know, was that your mind wasn't in a good place. And that place was one he had been before, after Hankel. 

He felt a pounding in his chest whenever he was around you. This hiding of his feelings was stupid, and he knew it. God did he want to tell you. To kiss you. But that wasn't going to be good for you right now. You were currently behing stalked by a creepy ass man who should be classified as an Unsub. Letting you stay with him was the least he could do. Not that he didn't trust your roommates to protect you. He just prefered to keep you safe without trusting that safety with other people. 

He felt his fist tighten at his side as he tried desperately to think of a plan with all of the information he had stored in his brain. But he had nothing. And came up with nothing. 

What could he truly do? This man, this Peter Calvin was causing you so much pain. And Spencer felt helpless against it. All he could do was to tell Hotch and hope he took this as seriously as he did everything else.

You rubbed your hands throught the rushing water from the bathroom sink, splashing it onto your face. You felt miserable. A throbbing headache soon took root in your head, pairing itself with your dark circles. 

What was this doing to you? You had let him control your life and your every decision for over 5 years. 7 if you counted the years you were actually around him. This had to stop. You were never going to forget any of this. You just hoped that there wouldn't be much to remember. 

You turn the faucet off and quickly dry your face, deciding to take a quick shower before you headed off to work. 

The water that ran over you felt lighter than the weight of your bones. So you stood still in the rushing water, closing your eyes and letting your mind recover. 

Ten minutes later, you heard a soft knock at the door. You turned the shower off as you finished, walking towards the noise. 

You wrapped a towel around your waist and opened the door dripping wet. You see Spencer standing there with a small pile of neatly folded clothes. He widened his eyes at the sight of you in a towel, immediately covering his eyes with one of his broad hands. 

"S-sorry-! I-I just b-brought you an outfit… since you didn't seem to grab one before…" he assured, the obvious blush peaking out from underneath his hand. 

You let out the first genuine giggle of the morning and take the clothes. "Thank you, Spence. Could you… maybe get that lette4 into a ziplock bag for me? There's a few in the kitchen under the sink." 

Spencer nods to you without moving his hand and then heads in the direction of the kitchen. You look down at the clothes and smile softly. Oh what you wouldn't give to be with him for real. Then maybe moving in with him would be a little more exciting. 

○●♡●○ 

The elevator the two of you were currently riding up to the BAU was making your stomach do flips. You had began to feel nauseous as soon as you both began to head back here. So you were just hoping it was just nerves. 

Once the doors opened and cleared you both stepped out and headed towards the office. Spencer had stopped the hand on your back as soon as you both had arrived. But if you were honest? You kind of missed it. 

Spencer opened the glass door for you, allowing you both passage into the bullpen. Morgan looks up at Spencer, then at you to which he winked. You smiled back at Morgam before you reached into your bag and pulled out the bagged letter. Spencer turned to you and gave you a reassuring look. You nodded, already understanding what he was saying without having to hear a single sound. 

You took a deep breath and turned towards Hotch's office, heading off in it's direction. 

You gently knock on the door, getting the go ahead from Hotch from the inside. It was now your turn to open the door for Spencer who had followed you. It wasn't that you had asked him to do so. But you were greatful he had. 

"(Y/N). Do you need something?" He asks, putting a few stray papers away. You hesitantly nod. 

"Unfortunately, sir. You see, in my file, it shows that my last name hasn't always been (L/N). It used to be Grant. The reason why I changed it has found me again. And… I have reason to believe Reid is in danger as well." You reveal, causing both men to give you looks of confusion. 

"I went home with Spencer, yesterday. If the letter was put there yesterday, then he had to had followed me. Meaning, he followed both Spencer and me." 

Hotch raised an eyebrow. "What letter?" 

You hold up the enclosed envelope, holding it out to Hotch. "This one. I've been hiding from a stalker from my past. His name is Peter Calvin. I can tell you and the rest of the team about my situation during a briefing. Just know that he threatened my family when I wouldn't marry him, Hotch. He will kill me and anyone who doesn't give him what he wants." 

Hotch takes the letter, allowing Spencer to stand up and walk to your side. "Why didn't you say anything?" He asks in a hushed tone. 

"I only just realized, Spence. Maybe me staying with you isn't the best idea-" you apologize, turning to look at the door in a little bit of shame. 

"No, you can stay with me. Hotels won't be safe enough. Besides, my place is closer to work. We can come and go without drawing any attention." He assures you, not putting a hand on your shoulder as he did the night prior. 

You felt a small jab of hurt at his actions, pushing it off as his germophobia. But still, a part of you found it hurtful. 

"Are you both sure that's wise?" Hotch suddenly speaks, jolting you both from your not-so-secret conversation. 

"What do you mean?" Spencer asks. Hotch's eyes never leave the letter, shaking his head. 

"I saw you leave work with him, is he your new plaything now? The one you mean to replace me with? No matter. A whore is a whore. I will find out who he is and take him away from you." Hotch reads, sending a second jolt of hurt through you, this time much stronger. Dammit! What part of your life has he not infested?! 

"That doesn't mean anything Hotch. His primary focus as a stalker is (Y/N). He's hyper focused on her and whoever gets in his way of getting to her. I can protect her, Hotch. We just need to find him before he can find her again." Spencer expressed, his knuckles turning white against his pants as he fought back the urge to yell, to scream, to punch something. 

"Reid, I know your worried about her, as we all will be. But since you are clearly a target in this letter I cannot condone (Y/N) staying with you." Hotch regretfully explains, beginning to stand up. 

You feel tears bubbling into your eyes, making it harder to see in front of you. Then, you don't know how you got to this point, but you suddenly answered, "What if we were to have another FBI agent with us? At least during the night?" You ask. 

"The Bureau doesn't have the funds to do that. Even if you would find one who's off duty to do it, they wouldn't be paid." Hotch informed. You sighed. 

"I know. He's my friend, Agent Gabriel Novak. He… he personally accepts payment for favors like this in candy and icecream, sir. I can pay that myself." You assure, feeling like dying internally for having to tell your boss that one of the people you live with lived off a diet of nothing but sugar. 

Hotch raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. "Well, if you can arrange it, I can clear you to stay with Reid. For now. But unfortunately, we won't be able to start on that case just yet." He sighed. 

You furrow your brows and tilt your head slightly. "Why?" You ask. 

"We have a case." 

○●♡●○ 

"What do we got Garcia?" 

"We have a series of strange murders up in Seattle. The first of 4 victims, 12 year old Olivia French was found dead after not returning home from school 10 days after she first went missing. Then we had a young Lisa Barnett, 11, who went missing from the grocery store when she wandered off from her mother. She too was found dead 10 days later. The process repeats for the next two victims, twins Jillian and Jennifer Gonzalez, 9 years old, who were both abducted and found dead ten days later after being taken from their home in the middle of the night. There were signs of heavy sexual abuse on each of the girls but no DNA match." Garcia began to list, clicking a button to show the pictures of the case and crime scenes. You looked down at the tablet in front of you, frowning as you saw each of the girls. They were all different races and found from different family dynamics. There was little to no connection other than the age and the gender of these girls. 

"He escalated. Why?" Rossi asks, swiping through the pictures. "How far back does this go?" He asks. 

"4 months sir. The last two cases were right after the other. Just last night, young Gabrielle Haddon, 12, was abducted from the carnival where she and her family and friends had gone for the night. When they searched, they found nothing." Garcia answered. 

"So we have 9 days to find her. Before she's killed. What even is this guy? The ages are varied, the highest he'll go is 12--What do we know about him?" You ask, trying to keep your worrying mind off of Peter. 

"Well, based on the way the bodies were dumped, he isn't remorseful. He's unorganized. But he's charismatic. Or at least works with kids. That's how he's gotten these girls to leave with him." Morgan answered. 

"Yet the question of why take two at the same time? Then go back to taking just one?" Spencer asks, looking up from his papers. 

"Perhaps it was just the opportunity. He saw the chance and took it. He must be seriously physically capable if he was able to carry both of those girls to the dump site. Or to ubduct both of them at the same time, considering that they could have fought him." Prentiss suggests. 

"It's most likely. Yet this still means we need to broaden our profile. We may be looking at two unsubs." Hotch suggests. 

"Maybe. But with the singular MO, the way the bodies were dumped, I'd say this is one unsub." JJ says, looking back over at Hotch. 

"These girls have almost nothing in common with each other other than age, and gender. Is this just a pedophile who decided to give into his desires? But found out it's hard to keep a secret when the older kids tend to tell it?" You suggest, biting the inside of your cheek, trying to calm your nerves. If you were in another state entirely, Peter couldn't find you. He couldn't hurt you. Not yet at least. 

Morgan glanced over to you worriedly for a moment, lookint away when he sees you looking over towards him. 

"It might just be that. Or something to do with a child of that age recently happening to him in the last 8-4 months." Rossi points out. 

Hotch nodded. "We need to find Gabrielle, before we run out of time. He may decide to go underground after this one. Wheels up in 30." He says, standing up and gathering his papers to head to the jet. 

Spencer gave you a quick hug as soon as mostly everyone else was out of the room. He then left the room, leaving you with Derek who was still seated at the table going through the case pictures. 

"You okay?" He asks, looking up from the tablet. 

"You want totally honest?" You ask. 

"What else is there, pretty girl? I saw you fidgeting over there. And pretty boy gave you a hug before he left. He never gives hugs. Not even to me. So what's going on with you?" He asks, standing up and facing you with his arms slightly crossed. You sigh, a slight smile on your lips. You were thankful for this team being such sweethearts, even if they profile you every second of the day. 

"Morgan… look I...how about I tell you on the way to the jet? I feel that… maybe I can tell you that way. Besides, this is a long ass story." You say, laughing nervously as you look away. 

"And we got a long ass plane ride. We'll make time." He assures, gesturing for you to follow. "Come on, but let me know if I'm asking too much." He asks, holding up his hands in front of him. You sigh and nod, beginning to follow him. 

Here goes nothing.


	14. Chapter 14

"So… you're telling me that you got a stalker? And you didn't think about tellin' us? We could've been trying to find this guy and get him behind bars this whole time." Morgan asks as you both headed towards the jet. You sigh, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

"Morgan, you gotta understand that I don't trust easily. The last time I trusted someone, they gave me back to him when I tried to get away the first time. So I had to be sure he didn't have any moles here." Your hands felt clammy as you both walked. You were good with going on a case sure, but you supposed these questions were making you nervous. 

"I mean…" Morgan started. "I guess I get it. But why not tell us after you told us your name? You trusted us after that, right?" He asks as you both finally get onto the jet. 

"Trusted who?" Prentiss asks as she noticed you two were finally on the plane. You sighed, your eyes frantically looking for a seat to ease your shaking legs. 

"Just...it's nothing. We should start focusing on the case now." You insist, taking a seat next to Spencer. 

Derek thankfully dropped the topic, but was still curious as to why you hadn't trusted them with that part of you yet. Especially since they could've helped you with it. 

Spencer gave you a small reassuring smile as he turned his attention to his folder for the case. They had to work. Peter could wait. 

"I called a moving company to get your stuff moved while we're gone." He whispers to you a few moments later. You jump for a second, having not expected him to suddenly speak. 

"Really? Spence, you didn't have to." You insist. "Gabriel's not gonna like the noise." You chuckle. 

"Well he's gonna have to deal with it for a few days. O-or for however long it takes to get your things packed at your place and dropped off at mine." He insists in return, giving you another genuine smile. 

Bless this man, you thought. 

"Alright, any ideas on where to start with the profile?" Hotch asks the team, taking his seat on the jet just before the pilot got ready to take off. 

"Well from the way these girls were just tossed into their dump sites suggests that he doesn't care if they're found or not. The postmortem wounds were from the impact of the gravel, not from any torture." Prentiss suggests, looking diwn again at her screen. 

"Yeah, I notice that too. You think these girls are our unsub's way at getting back at daughter or a wife that left him?" JJ asks. 

"Maybe. If there are any signs of defense wounds, we need to find a DNA match. Otherwise, this guy is narcissistic. He's only caring about himself, and he's tossing these girls like leftovers. The wounds are extensive. I think he most likely works at a school or somewhere else that centers around children." You add onto her point. 

"That's probably our best option to look at for now. Garcia, I'll need you to get a list of workers in children's places in the Seattle area. It will be large for now, but we can narrow it down as we go." Hotch asked. 

"I'll get right to that sir." Garcia says. 

You sigh as the rest of the team continues to discuss the potential profile. You didn't know if you were going to be any good on this case given how torn up you were about Peter. You wanted to work, get your mind off of it all, but you couldn't shake the feeling of dread from your system. 

You hated being useless, especially in your given state. You should be contributing to the preliminary profile you were barely listening to. The only words you caught were Spencer's. But you couldn't understand what point he was making without the rest of the conversation. So you opted to just try and ease your mind, and ask Spencer about the profile later. 

So, you close your eyes and try to rest and recover from your mind's onslaught. This then lead to you unknowingly resting your head on Spencer’s shoulder. 

Hotch had assigned roles to everyone ten minutes prior, so there was no real attention on the two of you. Until you leaned your head on his shoulder, fully asleep. 

Spencer almost jumped as he felt your head hit his shoulder. He snapped his head to gaze over you, finding the picture he revealed to be absolutely breathtaking. He saw you loosely hugging his arm while your head snuggled closer to you. Spencer couldn't fight the blush he received afterward even if he wanted to. 

Morgan unfortunately noticed and chuckled, nudging Hotch's arm. "I think Pretty Girl needs a break. Look how tired she is?" He whispers. 

Hotch nodded. "Has she told you yet?" He began to ask. 

'What are you two talking about? Try to keep it down, please?" Spencer whisper-hissed, one arm moving and wrapping around your waist. 

"We are, pretty boy. Maybe you should get those ears checked?" He suggests playfully, receiving only a soft and stifled growl from Spencer. 

"Looks like she was tired. Given her situation, I wouldn't have expected any less." Hotch observes, sighing gently himself. 

"You know already, Hotch?" Morgan asked. 

"Yes, I do. I already called Garcia to look as much on him as we can while we're gone. That way we can hit the ground running once we get back." Hotch informed, leaning back over to his normal, non-leaning position. 

Morgan sighed, sitting normally as well as he let his mind wander about the girl sitting in front of him. He wanted nothing more than to find this son of a bitch who had caused you to fear and kill him. You very quickly had become like a third sister to him. And if he could protect you from anything, you bet your ass he'd do it--no questions asked. 

For now though, he'd have to just watch you from afar. He'd have to trust Reid enough to make you feel protected when he couldn't. Especially since the two of you had been assigned to interview the little girls families. At least for now, you would be okay. Interviewing wasn't easy, but it was a hell of a lot better than potentially getting attacked out in the open. 

Rossi watched the two of you for a few moments, sighing at how cute you both looked. Hotch raised an eyebrow at him, tapping the table. Rossi groaned and pulled out a twenty, putting it into Hotch's hand. 

"You two actually bet on them?" Prentiss asked, laughing in surprise. 

"I thought Morgan and Garcia were more the type. Us too." JJ teased. 

Spencer looked at Hotch and Rossi completely confused, shrugging one shoulder in hopes of not waking you. He mouthed 'you guys bet on me?' 

Hotch let out a soft chuckle. "On both of you. Not just you." He clarifies, making Rossi roll his eyes. Spencer sighed, shaking his head and squeezing you closer. He didn't know how he had gotten so confident in affection like this, but he hoped the confidence would stay. So that he could maybe work up the courage to ask you out once this is all over. 

○●♡●○ 

"Sorry I fell asleep on you, Spence." You said pleadingly, walking into the Seattle police station. Spencer shrugged. 

"It's alright, (Y/N). I didn't take offense to it. I really mean that." He insists, holding the case file in his hands. 

"But stilllll-! I fell asleep on you! I feel bad for the kink you're gonna feel in that joint." 

Spencer choked a little on his coffee, only understanding his first known definition of the word you used. He swallowed the fore-mentioned drink and sighed. "I'm sorry, a what now?" He asks, widening his eyes at you. He knew that there had to be some other explanation-

"Oh, a kink? It's the cramp you get after you sleep with your neck wrong and you can't turn it one direction. But with any body part." You explained. "What else could it be-Oh." You realized, your cheeks brightening up like a red ornament. 

"Yeah… I only knew that definition. I'll keep yours in mind though." He says, opening the door to the interview room for you. You nod to him and sigh. This was going to take forever. 

You walk in and take a seat, smiling gently at the family in front of you. There only sat a mother and a father with a tissue box being used equally by both of them. 

"Hi, I'm Agent (L/N). This is Dr. Spencer Reid. Do you mind if we ask you some questions? About your daughter, Olivia?" You ask in a gentle voice. The mother doesn't answer, but the father respectfully gives you a nod. 

You nod back and settle into a chair in front of them, knowing Spencer prefered to stand. "Is there anything at all you can tell us about when your daughter was taken?" You ask. 

"It was a normal school day… she was supposed to walk home on fridays. The rest of the week she stayed with her brother in the after school daycare. But she never came home…" the father cried, pressing a tissue against his eyes. 

"We're terribly sorry for your loss, Mr. French. But we need just a little bit more information. So that we can find your daughter's killer." You clarified, reaching over and taking one of both of their hands and squeezing tightly. 

"I know… I just w-wish I could go back in time and just see my daughter come home to me one last time-" he wailed, erupting into a hard sob that wrecked his body. 

You squeezed his hand again along with your own eyes shut. This was painful for them. But you still couldn't help but wonder if in another life your parents would cry over you too. 

"Mr. French, was there any after-school activities your daughter participated in? Other than the after-school daycare?" You asked. 

"No, she stayed after school during the week 'cause her mother was off to get them. It was her time. But then on friday, it was my time. I got weekends." He explained. 

"Thank you, only one more question, Mr. French." You reassured. The woman next to him cried a little harder, her left ring finger being bare. She must have been his wife before. The man nodded, sniffling quietly. 

"Was there anyone new in her life that she told you about? Anyone she talks about?" You ask. "Maybe new friends?" 

"S-she… she said she made friends…w-with this kid named Lira. She talked about her for weeks. Sayin' she wanted to stay after-school at the daycare to play with Lira." He answers, holding back tears. "I'm sorry I'm not of much help." 

"No, you were plenty of help, sir. We're just trying to prevent another family being torn apart." You answer. You turn your head and give Spencer a questioning look. He shook his head in response, almost knowing what you were asking. 

"Alright, you two can leave. We'll call you if we need anything else." You inform, handing the father a card with your FBI phone number on it. He nodded, taking the card as he left. 

You sigh and exit the room with a groan. "I am never going to get used to that…" you exhale, leaning against the wall outside. 

"You will eventually. It's all a part of the job." He says. "But I think you were onto something there. I'll call Garcia and check and see if the rest of the families used that after-school daycare. It could be where the unsub found his victims." Spencer says, getting ready to turn around and call said technical analyst. He noticed your forlorn look and turned back to you. 

"You okay?" He asks. 

You blinked a few times and looked up at him, having expected him to go about his business. "Huh? O-oh, yeah… yeah, I'm fine… just feels weird looking over my shoulder again after five years." You sigh, biting your lip. 

Spencer frowned and took a step forward towards you. "If it makes you feel any better, I doubt he knows you're here. He hasn't gotten close enough to place any sort of tracker on you. So you’re safe here." He insists, giving you a small smile. And surprisingly, even in your state of worry, it still managed to make your belly erupt in butterflies. 

"Thanks, Spence. But he was able to find me after five years. I have to assume he's gotten better at tracking. I can't let my guard down. He's got goons and they know how to blend in. I should know, I tried escaping him 37 times before I was able to save up enough money for a plane ticket to Quantico. None of the people I asked for help would help me. Cause they all worked for him." You admit, squeezing your eyes shut and looking towards the ground to prevent tears. Spencer immediately pulled you close and wrapped his arms around you. If this was what it took to comfort you, he would hold you forever until you felt like letting go. 

You sighed and wrapped your arms around him in return.

One family down, three more to go. 

○●♡●○

"What do you think you got so far?" You asked Spencer who was currently working on the geographical profile while you both waited for the rest of the team and for Garcia to get back to you on if there were any records of a Lila in the after-school daycare's lists. Turns out all four of the girls who were killed went to the same school. Gabrielle went there as well. And sure enough, they all mentioned a Lira at the after school daycare they wanted to play with. 

"Not much… given the distance between the dump sights you'd think he lives in the area, but I think he just dumps them nearby so he can return to the bodies." Spencer expressed, holding up a marker after he'd connected the three dump sites. 

"You think he's using his own daughter?" You ask, hearing your phone go off. You hold up a finger and swing your hair back as you answer. 

"What do you got for me, Garcia?" You ask, turning towards Spencer and putting her on speaker as she answered you. 

"Remind me not to mess with you two, since you are clearly geniuses. You were right, there was a Lira Foeman on each sign in sheet, but when I looked into it, no Lila Stamford actually goes to the school. Oh! And each of the workers were volunteers, not teachers." She explained. 

"So one of them could be our unsub." You say. Spencer nods to you in clarification. 

"She's clearly using a false name, most likely being given by her father. Didn't want to risk getting caught. We should call Hotch, try to see if we can visit the daycare and talk to Lira. I have a feeling the stressor has something to do with her." Spencer answered. You nodded and said goodbye to Garcia, calling Hotch immediately after. 

"(Y/N), Reid, you got something?" He asks. 

"Yeah, we found out each of the victims went to the same school and after-school daycare. And they each leading up to their disappearance mentioned a girl named Lira. We had Garcia run the name but there was none. The name's a fake." You explain. 

"We think the unsub might be using his own daughter to get these girls. She may have made a deal with him to not touch her anymore if she would help him." Spencer infers. 

"That is possible, but we should be sure of it first. I want you two to head down to the daycare tomorrow and look for Lira, try to get her to talk to you." Hotch ordered. 

"Yes sir." You answered as he hung up the phone. 

"Well, it's a start. We're getting somewhere." You spoke up, putting your phone away. 

"That we are… could you spell that name out for me?" Spencer asked, turning the map board around to the white board. 

"Yeah, uh L-I-R-A, and then F-O-E-M-A-N." You answered. Spencer nodded and began to work through the name like an anagram. 

He connected each letter, even doubling up on some. After a few moments he writes out Laila Foreman. 

"There, that's probably her real name. Of course there are plenty of other possibilities, but this one made the most sense." He explained. 

"We'll use it tomorrow. When we go talk to her. We'll call for her by that name first. If anyone reacts, we go and talk to her." You answer. "I'll call Garcia again and have her run the names again." You promise, turning on your heels to go out to call the analyst. 

"Wait, (Y/N)." 

You turn around, feeling a presence around your wrist. "Spencer..?" You ask. 

"Are… are you sure you're okay? There have been studies on dealing with your problems and the signs that you're pushing them away. You match three of the five. Focusing more on others, running away from them, and not talking about them." He explains. "I want to help you, but I can't if you keep ignoring the problems in the first place." He insists, squeezing your hand. You take in a heavy sigh, knowing he means well. But you were really not in the mood to discuss yourself. You worked better, honestly, when you had to refocus on something else. 

"Thank you, Spence, for worrying. But right now, I need the distraction." You sighed, letting go of his hand and walking away. You promptly left the room and headed out to meet Hotch and the rest of the team as they returned. 

_I love you, Spence. But I don't want to face it all right now. The case comes first._


	15. Chapter 15

_“(Y/N).”_

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_You look up from your desk, having finished framing your diploma. You turn your attention towards your now open door, seeing your parents in the doorway. That was never good. You swallowed the lump that quickly formed in your throat before answering them._

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_“Yes, Father? Mother?” You asked, smoothing out the ugly ass dress they had made you wear that day. Your father cleared his throat, letting your mother answer you. Weak ass coward._

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_“As you know, you are 18. The ripe age to start preparing to take over the company.” She answered, the topic sending a shiver of disgust down your spine. You had been trying to gather enough strength and confidence to stand up to them, but you hadn’t gotten to that point yet. You assumed you were too late._

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_“Y-yes, I’m very aware…” You answer, looking away from your mother._

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_“Look at me when I’m speaking to you, girl!” Your mother scolds, forcing your chin up so that your gaze was on her. “And speak confidently! No one will ever listen to you with a stutter like that!” She snapped, causing you to flinch slightly._

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_“Yes, Mother.” You muster up enough courage to respond._

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_“Good. But something we have not mentioned about the company is that it is mainly male-run. So, you’ll need to be married by the end of the year to take on the company.” She answered you. You widen your eyes. Were you hearing right? All you had to do was just not get married? Then you were free?_

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_“B-but-” you stopped yourself, trying not to show how excited you were not to be married. “But, I don’t have a boyfriend. Or anyone in mind.” You answer clearly._

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_“Yes, we are very aware.” Your mother groaned. That wasn’t a good sound. “That is why your father and I have arranged a husband for you. His name is Peter Calvin. He owns a company of his own. He’d be great as a partner in business and life.” Your mother announced, causing a heavy stone of fear and dread to drop to your stomach._

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_“I won’t marry someone I don’t know! Nor do I love!” You exclaimed, your voice cracking in the disbelief that your parents would even do this to you. Sure, they were a little overbearing, but they still loved you. At least you hoped they did._

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_“That is why we’re letting the two of you get to know each other as fiances and then you’ll be married at the end of the year. End of discussion.” Your mother deadpans. “I don’t want to hear any of this ‘I want to marry for love’ bullshit again. I married your father because my parents arranged it. You’ll grow to love him.”_

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_You felt as if your whole world were shattering into billions of pieces that you couldn’t ever hope to piece back together. Your mother then decided that then was a good time to slam the door in your face, prompting you to fall to the floor and burst into tears. You had thought you had finally made yourself untouchable. That your parents couldn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to. But you were wrong. And now you were going to get engaged with a man you couldn’t love. You didn’t even know him._

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_“Get dressed, Peter Calvin has come by to meet you.” You heard your father’s voice echo through your door. You couldn’t even think to get up. You felt like a robot doing tasks as you unzipped your current dress. Then you had a burst of courage. If you made yourself undesirable to this Peter, wore something he wouldn’t expect, treated him terribly, perhaps he’d call it all off. Then you’d be free._

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_So instead of pulling on some other god awful dress and a pair of painful heels, you pulled on the pair of ripped jeans your friend Iris had lent you, and a rock t-shirt Gabriel had mailed to you from a concert that you had begged to go to but your mother had stopped you from going. You teased your hair with a hairbrush and let it hand around your shoulders. Then you wiped off all your make-up, and slipped into a pair of tennis shoes. You then headed down the stairs in your idea of an outfit._

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_Your mother immediately gestured for you to go back upstairs and change, but you ignored her, walking into the entryway where a tall and clean-cut man stood in a crisp navy-blue suit. He looked at you with wide eyes, obviously not expecting your attire. You put your hands on your hips, hoping to scare him away. His dark green eyes stared at you before they began to wander over your body. You suddenly felt uncomfortable, as if he were undressing you with his eyes. His blond hair was neat against his scalp, his tan skin perfect and blemishless. It was as if you were staring at a ken doll._

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_“(Y/N) Grant, you look…” He began. Of course, the first thing he mentioned was looks. As if there wasn’t anything else about you._

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_“Terrible? Yes, thank you for noticing. Now, I’m not the perfect prissy princess you want. So go find a family that has a daughter like that. I’m sorry about your luck.” You snapped, knowing you’d be in big trouble once he left. But it was worth it._

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_“I wasn’t going to say terrible.” He suddenly answered, stopping you from turning around and leaving._

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_“Then what were you going to say?” You ask._

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_“I was going to say, radiant. Bold, even. I like that in a woman.” Shit._

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_“Still, I-” You began._

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_“I’d like that even better in a wife.” he began, causing your heart to pound, seeing his knee hit the floor. You could hear the sudden roar of your heart in your ear, making your breathing increase._

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_“(Y/N) (M/N) Grant, will you do me the honor of being my wife? Will you marry me?” He asks, staring his snake eyes into yours. You stared down at him, unsure of what to even say. You were stuck._

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_After a few moments, your mother had clearly gotten impatient. “Answer him, damnit!”_

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_You felt your body finally give you control again, and then that surge of confidence returned. You smirked and took your hand back. “No. No I won’t marry you.” You firmly say, causing everyone else in the room to stumble. Except for Arthur, who let out a relieved sigh._

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_Your mother rushed over and shoved your hand over to Peter’s. “She means yes-!”_

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_You immediately snatched your hand away from both of them. “No! I mean NO!” You yell, glaring into your mother’s narrowed eyes._

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_“Surely I can change your mind. What is it you want? Money? Property?” Peter asks, still not getting up from the floor. You growl and turn towards him._

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_“No amount of money can convince me to marry you. Nor can it buy what I want.” You sneer, storming off towards your room as your mother screamed for you to come back. You had finally stood up for yourself. Now you just had to do it for the rest of the year. Once it was over, you were free to do whatever you wanted._

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_If only it had been that easy._

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○●♡●○ 

"Hey, (Y/N)." 

You couldn't hear whoever it was speaking to you, only focused on the memory that decided today was a great day to reminisce. To remember the decision that got you where you were. You let out a tired sigh, rubbing your forehead. 

"(Y/N)." The voice tried. You were still distracted, focusing on how much better everyone's life would've been if you had just said yes and did as you were told. 

"(Y/N)!" 

Finally you jumped up, noticing the voice now. And the genius who owned it. You clasped a hand to your chest, breathing heavily as you tried to calm yourself. 

"Sorry, you were so lost in thought I guess you didn't hear me. We're at the school." Spencer explained. You nodded to him, quickly wiping your incoming tears with your sleeve. 

The previous night had been a disaster. You hadn't gotten much sleep at all let alone any peace of mind. All you could see were Peter's snake eyes and the way they always narrowed when he was debating whether or not to kill you for saying no to him. 

So now you were hardly in a position to be working, but it was the only distraction you had. So it was the best thing you could do. 

"Right… sorry." You answer Spencer quickly, getting out of the car and smoothing out your clothes on instinct. 

"You sure you're okay?" Spencer asked, walking beside you as you both headed towards the main entrance for the school. 

"Y-yeah… I just… it's just memories. Promise." You assure, biting the inside of your cheek a little harder than normal. Why were you so nervous just to talk to some kid? 

"You sure don't wanna talk about them? It might help you find closure." He suggests. You sigh and shove your hands into your pockets. 

"The only way I will ever begin to find closer, is to see his name in the paper saying he's going to jail for life. Or dead, yeah that's better." 

Spencer went quiet for a moment, sighing to himself. He wanted to help you. But maybe just being here for you in the silence was enough. 

You both walk into the school, hearing the slowly closing doors behind you. You turn to the secretary and flash your badge. Spencer follows suit and does the same. 

"How can we help you two?" She asked, smiling nervously at you. 

"We just need to speak with one of the students in the extended day program." Spencer answered for you. 

"Sure thing, do I let them know you're coming?" She asks. 

"No, that won't be necessary. Thank you, though." You answered, nodding your head towards her before hurrying out the second pair of doors. Spencer followed behind you. 

"In all the 3 months and 1 week and 3 days I've met you, I've never seen you that formal spoken." He observes. 

"You'd better not be profiling me, Doctor." You insist, adding a teasing tone in hopes to distract him. 

He immediately smiles at you, putting his hands in his pockets as he turns his head to focus on where he was going. You let out a soft, tired sigh. This was going to be exhausting if you were going to try and hide it all from Spencer along with everyone else. 

You both found the auditorium/gym of the school and opened the door. One of the men stood up, and walked over to the two of you. 

"Hi, I'm Lionel Freeman. You here to pick up a kid?" He asks, smiling a fake genuine smile at the two of you. 

"Yes, uh… Laila Foreman?" Spencer calls out, and lo and behold a little girl with strawberry blonde hair and a pair of emerald green eyes looks up at the mention of her name. The man in front of you raises an eyebrow. 

"Laila?" He lets out a chuckle that you noticed had a tinge of annoyance. "We don't have any Lailas. We have a Lila, do you mean her?" He practically spat as he gritted his teeth. You make your little observation unknown to those around you, looking over at the girl. 

"Ah, yes. We'd just like to speak with her." You answered for Spencer, taking his hand as if you two were a couple and guiding him over towards the table Laila sat at. 

"Did you see how defensive he got when we mentioned her real name? Maybe there's another reason other than his like for little girls that made him change his daughter's name." You ponder. He hums for a second before he answers you. 

"What if he's guilty of kidnapping too?" He asks. 

"My dad isn't a kidnapper." 

You turn your head and come face to face with Laila. You sigh and smile at her. "We're not talking about him, sweetie. Why don't we talk for a minute. We just need to make sure your safe with your dad." You assure, turning back to Spencer to keep an eye on the dad. He nods, sitting next to you at the edge of the lunch table so he could inadvertently keep an eye on him. 

"So… Laila? Or is it Lila?" You ask, giving the girl a genuine smile. 

"It-" she starts, biting her lip. "He says I can't tell strangers my real name…" she admits. 

"Who does? Your dad?" You ask. She nods. 

"Well… what if I told you my name? That wouldn't make me a stranger, technically." You suggest. She smiles gently before nodding towards you. 

"Well, my name is (Y/N). And this is my friend Dr. Spencer Reid." You introduce. Spencer smiles down at the girl with a bright smile, waving childishly at her. She errupts into a small fit of laughter, smiling up at him. 

"M-my name's Laila. B-but my dad makes me go by Lila while we're here. He says we have to move soon. I don't know why…" she sighs. 

"Laila, if you don't mind me asking, how old are you?" Spencer asked. You faked a gasp and playfully hit Spencer’s hand. He looked at you confused, making you snort. 

"You don't just ask a woman her age!" You tease. Laila giggles and smiled, hugging a small doll she had in her hands. 

"I… I just turned 13." She says, playing with the doll's hair. You narrowed your eyes at the doll, noticing it looked like the twins that were recently found. 

"Laila, when did your father give you that doll?" You ask. Spencer looks over at you knowingly, a firm frown on his face. 

"Huh? He… he gave it to me three weeks ago, after our guests had to leave. Jill and Jenny were so much fun to hang out with. The new girl's fun too, but she's quiet. And I… I don't like watching her when my dad comes downstairs." She admits. 

"Do you have an address you can give us, Laila?" You ask. She immediately shakes her head. 

"N-no, no I-I don't. I-I gotta go…" she insists, squeezing the doll tightly against her chest and quickly gets up from the table. 

"It's him." You whisper to Spencer. He nods to you quickly so as to not tip off Lionel. Or if that was even his real name. 

"We don't want to do this in front of all of the kids, so let's try to get him out." You add as you both get up and approach Lionel. 

"Sir, we need to ask you a few questions, do you mind stepping outside?" You ask. He looks at the two of you, and then he looks over at his daughter. Laila shrinks against the wall and hurries towards the bathrooms. He grumbled and headed towards the exit for the auditorium. 

Once you three were all out, he broke into a run. You and Spencer both pulles out your guns and began pursuing him. He tried to take a turn in the right wing, causing a few teachers to let out a gasp. 

"T-that way!" One exclaimed to you. You nodded towards her for a moment before continuing the chase. 

Finally, you both narrowed his choices, backing him into one of the remaining exits. Of which happened to be the only open one. You aimed your gun at his shoulder, glaring at him. 

"Don't you dare." You growled. Lionel smirked at you as you got closer. 

"Or what?" He asks, pushing the door behind him open. Immediately you fired, hitting his shoulder and left of his chest. He immediately fell, crying out in pain. 

"You call a medic, I'll get Hotch and everyone else on the phone." You assure. Spencer nodded, pulling out his communicator. 

"Lionel Freeman, you're under arrest for the kidnapping, murder, and rape of Olivia French, Lisa Barnett, and Jillian and Jennifer Gonzalez. You're also under arrest for the kidnapping of Gabrielle Haddon." You growl, pulling out your handcuffs and putting them on him as tightly as they would allow. 

"Ow-!! Watch the hands, bitch!" He growled. You rolled your eyes and heaved him up to his feet. 

"You have no rights, but we will take whatever you say and use it against you. So I'd suggest you stay quiet." You sneer, ushering him forward. 

Spencer narrowed his eyes at you, confused at this sudden change in attitude. He followed you, making sure to call Hotch so you didn't have to. 

Now that he noticed it, he could tell you had been a little secretive since you both had gotten off the jet. He hoped it was just you wanting to keep him safe, even if him knowing would make the situation better. 

He just hoped you were okay. 

○●♡●○ 

You ran a hand through your hair, waiting for Garcia's information and Lionel's real address. Because apparently he had multiple. 

Hotch entered the station, sighing as he passed the officers. Spencer walked in with him, shaking his head at you. You fight off the urge to growl. Why the hell couldn't you find this girl? This guy didn't actually own all these properties. He was playing games with all of you. How could they not see it? He was playing mind games just like Peter did with you- 

You took a deep breath, having found you hadn't taken one for about 30 seconds. 

Hotch walked over to you, looking down at your sitting position. "(Y/N)-" 

"Yes, sir, I know I shouldn't have let this case get personal. I just… I related to the little girl. To Laila. She had to change her whole identity. Her father was abusing her. And when she got too old, he moved onto other little girls." You sighed, looking uo at Hotch earnestly. 

"Thank you for the explanation. However, this is still an issue. We'll discuss this when we return. I'll have you do a few extra reports as well. Understood?" He asks. You nod. 

"Of course sir. Do you have any idea of where she is? Gabrielle?" 

"No, we're having Garcia look into his recent property purchases. That could get us results. Until then, we need to interrogate him. Just a confession from his daughter won't be enough to charge him with the murders." He insists.

"Yes sir." You sigh. Hotch then walks off, leaving you and Spencer. Morgan and Prentiss walked into the evidence room, presumably to cross things off on the map. 

Spencer began to head toward the same direction, not saying anything to you. You swallow before you collect all your courage. 

"Spence?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Thanks for your help."


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for Kidnapping in this one! And violence! And degrading language!

"So, what's the plan?" Morgan asks, shrugging as they all piled into the station. "We still gotta find Gabrielle. And she wasn't at his place." He reminds. 

"We should try to speak with Laila. Try to see if we can get anything from her. Lionel is smart. He'll ask for some kind of deal before he even gives us her location." Hotch answers. "(L/N), I'll need you to speak with her, as you and Reid were the ones to gain her trust the first time. Prentiss, Morgan, I'll need both of you to search a property listed as one of his. It's possible it's another fake, but we can't be too cautious. Reid, I need you outside the room just in case (L/N) needs your assistance. JJ and Rossi will deal with the parents and the media." He assigns. You nod towards him, standing up with a sigh. 

"Hey, kid." 

"Huh? Oh hey Morgan. Aren't you supposed to be heading out or something? Hotch sounded pretty serious." You teased, giving him a smirk. Your hands fidgeted with the file in your hands, no matter how much you tried to stop. 

"Yeah, I am. And I think everybody knows that. But I wanted to check on you first. You sure you're okay? You've been acting a little off this whole case."

"Yeah… just, preoccupied with my own trauma, I guess." You sighed. Morgan nodded, shrugging his shoulders. 

"I get it. But seriously, don't let this guy win. He didn't win before, don't let him now. He's just trying to get under your skin. You gotta trust your gut." 

You let out a small laugh and roll your eyes. "Yeah? Well my gut feeling is telling me he's right around the corner, waiting to jump out and grab me." 

"Well…" Morgan replied a little more uneasily. "Trust your head, then. Logic can't always hurt. Ask your boyfriend." He teased, winking at you. 

"He isn't my boyfriend, Derek." You huff. He widens his eyes and holds his hands up.

"Ooh, first name basis, I'm in trouble now." He grinned that blinding white smile of his as he backed away. You rolled your eyes at him, giggling softly. 

"You better watch it, Morgan." You insist, smiling at him before you turn around to head into the small interview room where Laila sat currently with her mother. 

"Hello…" you greet, causing Laila to turn her head from her mother's embrace and look at you. 

"Hi…" she whispers. 

Her mother turns her head and scowls at you, holding Laila close. 

"Haven't you people done enough? She's already traumatized by her father making her change her name after he kidnapped her! What, should she know about what he was really doing to those little girls too?" She demanded, glaring daggers at you while her short-cropped hair swung beside her face. 

"Ma'am, we don't intend on exposing or forcing your daughter to learn about what he did. However, if she knows where the current one is, Gabrielle, we can save a little girl's life." You answered, getting closer to Laila. 

Laila didn't shrink away as you came forward like you thought she would. She simply looked at you and took a deep breath. 

"You… you think she could… she could get back to her family?" Laila asked, biting her bottom lip. 

"Absolutely. She'll be given right back to her mother and father. Just like you have your mom again." You answer her, taking her hand gently into your own. "She needs your help to get back there, Laila. To get back to her own life. Only you can help her." You insist, squeezing her smaller hand. 

Laila took a deep breath, her mother squeezing her tightly. "You don't have to, Sweetie. We can just go home and pretend this didn't happen." Laila's mother tried, holding her daughter close. 

"B-but she's got a family, mama. Like you and me. She kept saying she wanted to go home to her family. And I promised her I'd help her." Laila protests, turning her body towards yours. 

"She… Dad said he was taking her to the farm. He said he didn't want me going cause I was too old. That I would scare the chickens." Laila answered. You smiled and nodded, squeezing her hand once more. 

"Thank you, Laila. That's all we need from you. Unless you remember the name?" You questioned. She shook her head. 

"My dad never took me. But he always took them…" 

"Thank you, Laila. Why don't you and your mom go home? Make some dinner together. Have a girls night, okay?" You suggested. A small pang hit your heart, wishing that you could have had those days. 

She nodded to you, before turning towards her mother and hugging her tightly. "Okay…" she answered you, before they left the room. 

You then walked out the door, noticing Spencer standing next to it. You narrowly missed his face with the door, causing you to let out a gasp.

"S-spencer! When Hotch said stand outside the door, I don't think he meant close enough to get smashed by one." You exclaim, closing the door behind you. 

"I believe the words you meant there were 'I'm sorry?'" He asks, smirking at you. You rolled your eyes. 

"Yes, I'm sorry. But still!" 

"Okay, maybe I could've been a little further away, but then I wouldn't have been able to hear if you needed me." 

"Smartass." You grumble, heading towards the rest of the team. 

"Hotch." You call out. 

"Yes?" He asked. 

"Narrow down the property searches to farms. Laila says her father always took the girls to a farm she was never allowed to go to because she was too 'old'." You inform. 

"Good work. I'll let Morgan and Prentiss know, I'll have you call Garcia." 

"Yes sir." You reply, turning around and beginning to dial Garcia's number. 

"You seem in a better mood." Spencer observed, resuming a walk beside you. You giggle and shake your head. 

"That's because I am. Doctor." You tease. 

"What caused this good mood?" He asked, smiling at you with his hands in his pockets. 

"Maybe I just got us the location of the little girl this psychopath kidnapped? And now when we find her and get her confession he'll go away for a very long time?" You ask, chuckling. "I think I have the right to be a little happy." 

"You always have the right to be happy. I wasn't insinuating that you don't. I just...haven't seen you happy for a few days. It's good to see you smile." He comments, leaving you blushing. 

"Well...thank you. Means a lot, coming from you." You tease, nudging his arm. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Nothing you need to know." You wink, turning and heading towards the exit for the station. The minute Garcia had an address, you planned on getting there as soon as possible. 

○●♡●○ 

Morgan made a gesture towards you signaling he'd go into the farmhouse on 3. You nodded, watching him countdown. Once he reached three, he kicked the door in, allowing you and the rest of the team passage into the building. 

"FBI!" Morgan called out, pointing his gun and flashlight into the first half of the house. You took the opposite, searching the dining room and the kitchen, finding nothing. 

"Clear." You called, Morgan doing the same soon after you did.

Then you both headed outside, shining your lights against the grass. You gestured to Morgan that you'd take the right, closest to the woods. He nodded, and took the left. 

You slowly approached the brick side of the farmhouse, when you practically trip over a handle laying amongst some wet dirt. You narrowed your eyes, unsure of what it was. 

"Morgan, I found something." You called through the walkie on your shoulder. 

"Wait for me." He replies. 

You sigh and start removing the dirt with your hand. You immediately catch a whiff of something dead, making you swallow a hard gag. 

"What is it?" Morgan asks, walking over to you. "You alright?" 

You nod wordlessly. "Y-yeah, I think it's a cellar." You explain, pointing towards the handle. 

Derek got onto his knees and tried to open the cellar door. He gritted his teeth, pulling it back. He grunted as it refused to open at first. Then it finally gave out, breaking open. 

You immediately rushed into the cellar and shined your flashlight around the room. What you smelled only got worse, making your eyes water. Morgan groaned. 

"I see what you were smelling." He says, gesturing towards the corner. You walk over and almost gag again. There in the corner sat a very scared Gabrielle chained up next to the dead body of another little girl. She looked to have been dead a long time, and had been 3 when she died. 

"P-please… h-help me…" Gabriel shivered as she spoke. You nodded and got closer to her, letting Morgan call for a medic. You searched the cellar, finding an old rusted key on a hook. You take it off and rush it over to Gabrielle. 

"I-iz h-h-he g-go-gone?" She asks, giving you the saddest look full of fear. You unlock her cuffs and nod. 

"Yes sweetheart, he's gone. Let's get you home, okay?" Gabrielle nodded, immediately jumping into your arms. You stumble a few steps back, but hold onto her. 

Morgan smiles at you, saying nothing as he helped you two walk up the cellar stairs. 

You carried Gabrielle out to the street, hugging her tightly as she hugged you. Hotch walked up to you, gesturing towards a male medic. 

You moved your head and looked at Gabrielle in your arms. "Hey," you spoke, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're gonna go with this nice man for now, okay? You're gonna head to the hospital so they can check you out-" you tried to start. Gabrielle shrieked and hugged you tighter. 

"N-no! P-please…" she whispers. 

You sighed and turned your head towards Hotch. "You don't mind, do you?" You ask, tilting your head. Hotch sighed. 

"Sure. But come straight back once her parents get there." He orders. You nod. 

"Alright, come on sweetie. I'll go with you. Will that make it better?" You ask. She nods, hugging you tightly. 

You then follow the EMT to the ambulance, helping them get Gabrielle into the stretcher. "It's gonna be okay, I promise." You assure her, holding her hand. 

"W-will my mom be there? A-at the hospital?" She asks. You nod. 

"Mhm. So will your dad. I'll be here with you until they're with you." 

"Okay…" she whispers, growing tired from the medicine the EMT's gave her through an IV. 

You sighed, looking Gabrielle over. She was safe, and that was all that mattered. Not Peter, not your mother, not the family company. She mattered. 

○●♡●○ 

You entered the station, a gentle smile on your lips. You head into the area the sheriff had given you all to do your work. 

Morgan was the first to notice you'd returned. He smiled immediately, walking over to you. "Hey, how's my favorite kid-tamer doing?" He teased. You rolled your eyes, seeing the rest of the team turning their heads to face you. 

"I'm fine. Her parents met us at the hospital. She was hesitant, but she should be okay." You reply. 

"A messed up version of okay. But yes, she should be." Rossi spoke up. You shrug and nod, rubbing your arm. 

"You do pretty good with kids. You'd make a good mom you know." Prentiss spoke up. You immediately blush and hide your face. You knew immediately who they meant when they said that. 

"You guys really need to stop that." You growl playfully. Morgan laughed, Hotch even let loose a little and smiled. 

"Or what? Emily's got a point. You'd make a good mom. Plain and simple. Unless you got a specific baby daddy in mind." He teased. You narrowed your eyes at him. 

"You sly little-" 

"Alright, that's enough. We need to head out, it may be getting late, but the pilot wants to get heading out before it gets too dark to take off." Hotch jokes. You smiled and sighed. 

"Alright, let's get going then. No telling who's shoulder I'm gonna fall asleep on this time though." You joke. JJ and Rossi smile while the rest chuckle. Spencer, however, blushed brightly at your comment. He had stayed quiet throughout the conversation, finding it easier and more of his place. 

You waited till Hotch and the others left to approach Spencer, who similarly got ready slowly. You smiled at him, looking up at him. 

"So… you like seeing me smile do you?" You tease. He widened his eyes and blushed, scrambling to find an explanation. You laughed and shook your head. 

"I'm kidding. But really, I kinda wanted to know if you wanted to go to this thing…" you trailed. He raised an eyebrow.

"Depends on what it is." He says, giving you a teasing smile. "But I'll most likely go." 

"Good. Cause… Well, I've been wanting to go to this event. I plan on inviting the rest of the team, but I wanted to make you my date. I-if you want to call it one…" you quickly cover yourself, feeling your heart pounding. 

"You aren't making much sense, I don't know what it is." He reminds, chuckling to himself. You smile and rub your neck. 

"Sorry." You then open up your phone and pull up a picture of a flyer Gabriel had sent you during the plane ride to Seattle. "There's this dance thing that's being held in 6 months, it's masquerade themed. I thought about Derek, but I realized I'd rather take my favorite Doctor." 

Spencer widened his eyes as you turned the screen around and showed him. The invite was definitely for a masquerade. But it seemed more modern of a theme however, based on the image. He leaned back and swallowed his nerves. _You can do this… just say--_

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"S-sure. I-I mean, I don't know why you would want me to be your date, since the setting for the dance is medieval, and I would probably point out all the inconsistencies-" he began to ramble. 

You laughed and held a finger to his lips. "That's actually one of the reasons I'm asking you, dummy. Now come on, let's head home. I have a bed and a pile of reports calling my name." 

Spencer let out a hearty laugh as he joined you. You felt as if a weight were pulled off of your shoulders. Derek was right, you just needed to live your own life. And not let Peter dictate whether or not you can. 

○●♡●○ 

It had been a few hours since you all got back. It was currently 7 at night, and you were exhausted. The jet had ended up getting delayed and having to land somewhere in Kansas for a few hours 'cause of a thunderstorm. 

So right now, you were exhausted, and finishing up reports. You scribbled down each detail as it was needed, feeling your hand begin to cramp up. Hotch had already come and gone, so you were, as you thought, very much alone. 

"Aaaaand...done!" You exclaim, smiling to yourself as you finish up the last report. 

"Good job, pretty girl. Even with the extra load, you never cease to amaze me." Morgan spoke up, coming out of his own office. You turn your head and smile at him, gathering the files up. 

"Why thank you, Morgan. But I thought you'd be gone by now." You chuckle. 

"Well, I usually stay after so Hotch isn't the last one out. But I too, had a few reports I had to finish. Not too many." He says, showing you the case files in his hands. 

"Ah. Well I gotta get these to Hotch's desk." You start. "I don't know about you, but I got a date with my bed." 

"Yeah, you do." Morgan chuckled. "Tell you what, why don't I walk you down to the parking lot? Be a gentleman?" He asks, giving you a flirtatious look. You laugh and nod. 

"Sure, just don't take off without me." You insist, before heading up the stairs and dropping the files off in Hotch's office. 

After a few minutes, you were both ready to head down. 

"Why don't we take the stairs? And you tell me about what you and pretty boy were talking about before we left Seattle." He insists, wiggling his eyebrows. 

"Sure, we can get some exercise. And I can maybe tell you what I did." You blush. Morgan gave you a smirk and a knowing look. 

"Oh, you did something." He teased. 

You both continued to talk as you headed down the stairs, laughing to each other. Once you both got to the lobby, you were still laughing. 

"So, a masquerade, huh? And you got the guts to ask him to go with you? Finally asking him on a date?" Morgan asked, his smile growing with each clarification. You rolled your eyes as you both exited the building. 

"Yes, for the last time I-" you started, before you stopped in your tracks. You stare in front of you, blinking a few times to be sure you hadn't seen what you thought you did. 

"(Y/N/N)? Hey, kid, what's going on? Why'd you stop?" Morgan asks. 

You shook your head, trying to calm your breathing. "It's nothing, just… I thought I saw something…" you say, taking a deep breath as you began to walk forward. Then, you felt a kick to the legs wind you, knocking you to the ground. You groaned, hearing Derek call your name. 

"Not so fast, big boy. Just cause this whore convinced you to sleep with her doesn't mean she belongs to you." 

Your bones felt chilled as soon as you heard that voice. You were terrified, unable to get up for several seconds. Once you tried, you felt a hand grip your hair. You yelped, trying to stomp on his foot. He let out a chuckle. 

"Seriously? Stop it. Get on your knees like a good bitch." He hissed, kneeing you in your stomach. You felt tears build up in your eyes as you keeled over, holding your stomach. 

"You better behave. You don't want me to hurt your little fuck-buddy, now do you?" He growled. 

"P-peter… please-" you groan. 

"This son of a bitch is Peter?!" Morgan exclaimed, clutching his gun and keeping it aimed at Peter’s head. 

"So you've heard of me? Good. You're going to be seeing a lot of me too. Try to shoot me? And she dies." Peter threatens, pulling out a gun and holding it against my head. He turned towards me and growled. 

"I paid for a bitch that would obey me, so stay the fuck down like one!" He barked. 

"You don't have to do this man, let-let's just talk about this." Morgan insisted. Peter rolled his eyes. 

"I wouldn't waste my time negotiating if I were you. I'm not changing my mind. I'm merely collecting what's mine." He sneers. You feel like vomiting. This was what you didn't want. What you wanted to avoid. If Morgan hadn't come out with you, Peter would've just taken you. Of course, not without a fight. But then no one would have had to get hurt. 

"She isn't property! No matter how much you supposedly paid, she isn't yours! And you wouldn't kill her. You said it yourself that you paid too much." Morgan pointed out, cocking his gun. 

Peter does the same, making you squeeze your eyes shut. Morgan hesitates, watching Peter’s actions carefully. "Really? I wouldn't?"

Morgan refuses to respond, just looking at you. Peter rolls his eyes. "Would you stop it? She isn't worth your time. She's mine. End of story." 

"I won't let you take her." Morgan growled. "She is a federal agent. Do you know how much jail time you'll get for that?" He asked. 

"Oh, she is now? What a pity, she's damaged that body of hers. But seriously, she's coming with me." Peter growled. He looked Morgan up and down, a smirk playing on his face. 

"M-morgan… p-please… j-just go-" you try to say, eating the asphalt as Peter forces your face into the ground. 

"Speak only when spoken to, brat!" He hissed, sneering as he turned towards Morgan. 

"The famous Derek Morgan, you know what?" Peter said, his smirk returning. "Last time I had her, she left me because I ran out of things to take away from her if she tried. But this time? I might just give her one she won't ever try to risk." Peter began, glaring at Morgan with an evil smirk. Then, before you could say a word, Peter shot Morgan in the upper leg, causing him to fall onto the ground. 

You let out a muffled cry, begging for Peter to leave him alone. But your cries went unheard. Derek grimaced as he held his leg, trying to get up. 

"Don't make me shoot the second one too." Peter threatened. Morgan glared up at Peter, giving him a hateful look. You saw Morgan’s phone on his belt begin to flash. He had an incoming phone call. You couldn't read who it was, but you had to get him to notice. So you tried the only thing you could think of. Distraction. 

You slowly got up, and then made as much noise as you could trying to run away. You made sure to tug at your belt as you did, hoping Morgan would get the message. 

"Get back here you little bitch!" Peter hissed, and began to chase after you like you expected. 

Morgan reached for his phone and answered the call immediately, wincing at his bullet wound. "H-hotch, h-hey you won't get here in time, but I gotta get this out. Peter, that SOB (Y/N) has in her file, he found her. He's shot me in my leg and he's gonna take me too. I don't know which car is his, otherwise I'd tell you his license plate." Morgan rushed to get everything out, watching in the distance as Peter hit you over the head with the butt of his gun. 

"Morgan, what's going on-" Hotch asked. 

"No time, I gotta go. I'll try to keep my phone on so Garcia can track it. But no guarantees. Just come find us, Hotch. I'm begging you." Morgan begged, before he hung up the phone and stuffed it into his pocket in hopes that Peter wouldn't see. 

A few moments later, Peter returned with your unconscious body dragging behind him. He growled and shoved her into the back seat. Morgan didn't dare try anything in the fear that Peter would hurt you further. 

Then he returned to Morgan, seething with anger and annoyance. "She's gotten to be such a bitch. I don't know what you or that nerdy boy see in her. All she is is a slut looking to get some. But that's perfect for me." Peter jeered. Morgan looked up at Peter disgusted, trying to withhold any profanities that would get you hurt. 

"Now that I've taken your little girlfriend, you're quiet? Cat got your tongue?" Peter sneered. 

"She isn't my girlfriend." Morgan protested. 

"Sure she isn't. Now, you gonna come with me willingly? Or am I gonna have to do the same thing I did to her, to you?" 

Morgan didn't answer, only spitting in Peter’s face once he got close enough. Peter wiped it away and growled. 

"By force it is." He snarled before he hit Morgan too in the head with the butt of his gun. 

Peter stuffed Morgan into the back seat, and then got into the driver's seat, blasting a Green day playlist as he drove off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise, I actually love Green Day. But I can't help that I associate some of their songs with a person who hurt me terribly. So, yeah. 🤷


	17. Chapter 17

_"Young lady I have had it with you!"_

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_You groaned and ran a hand through your hair, knowing the angry voice of your mother wasn't a good sign. You leaned back in your bed, plopping down against the pillow. 3...2...1…_

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_Your door swung open and a red faced version of your mother reared her head into the room. She was fuming, and you knew it was all because of you._

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_"After all I've done for you! I've fed you, raised you, dealt with each and every temper tantrum, and this is how you repay me? By denying me this one thing I ask of you?!" Your mother exclaimed. You knew better than to respond just yet. That would just fuel the fire._

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_"Don't I deserve happiness too?" She wailed, very quickly trying to guilt trip you. "I've done so much for you, and the one second I ask you to do something so simple you shove it right back in my face." She fake sobs, giving you crocodile tears. You want more than anything to prove her wrong. To point out that all of your life has been products of her decisions and her orders. You've barely ever gotten a single damn choice._

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_But that was what she wanted. For you to break and disrespect her so she could force you to say yes. It's what she did. She loved to manipulate you. But now that you were older, you knew all of her tricks. And you'd be damned if you were going to fall for them again._

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_"I want to marry for love, mother. Not a man I barely know. All he's done is send me creepy letters." You respond calmly, noticing she was waiting for a response._

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_"Pah! Love! There is no such thing as love! He's a nice man! Those letters are love letters! You should feel special that you're getting anything at all!" Your mother screeched, putting demanding hands on her hips._

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_"The letters are creepy, mother. He threatens you and father if I don't marry him. He just threatened Arthur in the last one. I had to get a completely different cell phone because he wouldn't stop calling me."_

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_"Well then that just proves to you why you should marry him! He wants you! What girl would want anything else?" Your mother insisted, causing the boiling rage inside of you to grow hotter and hotter._

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_"Me, Mother. I want more than just him wanting me. There were plenty of guys in highschool that wanted me, even in my young age. And you said no. They were of higher status too. So what fits your criteria, mother? Anyone I want to be with isn't an option?" You challenged, growling at your mother as you stood up and faced her._

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_"You will not speak to me like this. Now, Peter is here to see you. You will go down and speak with him, no exceptions!" Your mother dropped that bomb on you before exiting the room with a slam of the door._

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_You stood there in shock, unsure of what to even do. He was here. He has threatened to hurt your brother if you don't say yes the next time he asks. You were certain he would ask again this time. But you didn't want this. Whatsoever. You wanted freedom. You wanted to experience life for a few years before even considering settling down and having a family. Which Peter wanted right away. He wanted you as a housewife cooped up in one of his properties knocked up and barefoot. He said so in a number of his letters. The thought disgusted you._

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_So what were you to do now? There wasn't a way out. It had been a year since he'd first proposed. You were so close. But to get there you knew he would hurt your brother. Your family. And blame it all on you._

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_You sighed. This was really the only way._

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_You found a dress that he had sent you and slipped into its revealing fabric. You hated the plunging neckline and the sex appeal of the dress, but you knew it would help with this final sacrifice. Make him believe you._

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_You slid your hands over your dress to smooth it all out before you quickly put your hair down and headed down to the gardens where you knew he would be. It had been his favorite place to wait for you. To watch you in your window._

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_You felt your heart pounding in your chest, breathing heavily. You felt almost dizzy with nervousness as you continued down the stairs and down the corridor that headed to the gardens._

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_You could do this. At least, you hoped you could._

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_The sunlight shined into your eyes as you entered the garden, seeing his sunscorched hair glimmering from all the gel that he used._

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_You swallowed nervously before approaching him. He didn't turn his head for a few moments, making you think he hadn't noticed you. You stop beside him, swallowing again._

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_A few moments pass until he finally speaks up. "I see you've finally listened to your master and worn the dress I bought you." He comments. Of course that's what he noticed first._

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_"Yes, I wore it. But I am not your property." You hiss._

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_"Touchy subject, I suppose. Have you considered my offer?" He slyly spoke. You squeezed your eyes shut and exhaled sharply._

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_"Yes." You begin. Peter raises an eyebrow, turning around to face you._

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_"And?"_

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_"I…" you start, unable to continue from the pounding of your heart ringing in your ears._

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_"Remember what I told you, pet." He replies lowly, walking up to you. You let your head fall and you look down at his shoes, finding them much more interesting._

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_"Look at me when I speak to you, bitch!" He sneered, slapping you in the face. You widen your eyes at the sudden violence and look at him in shock, slowly raising your posture to straighten._

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_Then, Peter pulls out a knife and holds it against your neck. "You say no to me one more time, you deny me what I paid for, I will kill everyone in your family. Your mother. Your father. Even little Artie." He threatens. You feel a twinge of rage strike you as he called your brother by the nickname only you were allowed to call him._

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_"You know what? This time, I think I'll kill you. Tell your mother an assassin came by, and I tried to stop him." Peter faked a sad and distraught expression. You felt disgusted just by watching him. He let out a cackle as he continued._

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_"Then I'll tell them you had finally said yes. So they'll give me the company. Unless… you want to say yes now and avoid all of that nonsense." Peter smiled cruelly._

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_You had nothing. Have nothing. You couldn't do anything without losing. So you answered him. Said what he wanted to hear._

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_"Y-yes." You whispered, feeling tears immediately build up behind your eyes. Peter then grinned evilly._

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_"What was that? I don't think I heard you quite right."_

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_"I said yes, you bastard. I-" you caught on a sob in your throat, making you gulp. "I'll marry you…"_

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_You didn't think his smile could get any wider, but it did. He let out his version of a triumphant sigh and he reached forward, touching your belly. You almost recoiled immediately, wanting to run on instinct._

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_"I can't wait to knock this body up, make you have my sons. Because you belong to me."_

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_You felt like it was the beginning of the end. And unfortunately, it was._

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○●♡●○ 

Derek slowly woke from his forced nap with a quiet groan. His mind hadn't caught up with him yet, and he began to look around aimlessly for a moment. He could barely see anything, because it was all too blurry. Damn, he must have a concussion. 

He could feel the car bumping along the road, hitting what seemed to be a hundred different potholes. They must really be heading off road. 

Morgan went to rub his eyes, but found he couldn't. His hand wouldn't move away from his other. Then he felt the dig and the burn of the rope against his skin. And he remembered. 

Why this SOB didn't use Derek or your handcuffs, he didn't know. What he did know, was that these knots were complex, and would take a minimum of five minutes to even get loose. By then Peter would already know he was awake. Morgan didn't want him to know that piece of information just yet. He wanted to see where they were going. See if he could figure out a way back if he managed to get you out. 

Morgan let his head hang to not draw any attention to himself. He looked over to you, finding your image growing clearer as the minutes passed. You were still in what you were wearing when Peter kidnapped you both, so Derek felt a wash of relief that Peter hadn't tried anything with you yet. 

His eyes trailed from you to the front seat, where he could hear terrible singing with the song American Idiot. He tried not to make any noticeable faces, but still couldn't stop the grimace from forming on his face. Morgan used what little dexterity he had to try and feel for his phone. Thankfully, he still had it. But he didn't know if this psychopath had some sort of detector for a phone that's on, so he didn't dare try. Even if he promised he'd try to keep it on for Garcia. 

"So, you decide to wake up finally?" 

Morgan jumped slightly, lifting his head up. Peter looked at him through the rearview mirror. Derek fought the urge to sneer at him, settling on an unpleasant look instead. 

"Good, I'll need you awake so she doesn't think I killed you. If she does, she'll run. And then you're really gonna be dead." Peter sneered. Derek swallowed a very tempting profanity word to call this bastard. Did he seriously think she belonged to him? Like he owned her? 

Morgan stayed quiet, watching the trees that flew by the window. He was trying to figure something out. But the throbbing in his knee and the pounding in his head was inhibiting his every instinct. 

So instead, he just focused on trying to untie his bonds. He knew based on the loops and how complex the damn knot felt, it was going to take awhile. So he started slowly so as to not make Peter aware of what he was doing. 

Slowly though, you awoke beside Peter, looking up into the windshield. You noticed the growing bruise beside your eye and the swelling of a lump on your head. You, unlike Morgan, had no restraints. You merely had a seatbelt over you. You turned your head slowly towards the door, and noticed the lock and unlock feature plus the handle had been completely ripped out, making it impossible to open the door from the inside. 

"Good, you're awake too. That means we can finally discuss your purpose once we get to where you'll be staying for however long until it takes." Peter spoke up. You knew immediately what he meant, making you instinctively cross your legs and press them together tightly. 

"Please, that doesn't mean anything to me. If I have to force one in you I will. So do us both a favor and get used to being a submissive breeder." Peter spat, making you swallow harshly. 

"She isn't some dog, Peter. She won't just lay down and take it." Morgan practically spat. Peter gritted his teeth. 

"Really? And that's not what you did? Or at the very least that wasn't what you wanted to do?" Peter asks, glaring back at Morgan with a hateful look. 

"No, damn it. I don't ever think about wanting to do that. To anyone." Morgan growled. He was already digging his own grave. But that didn't mean he was digging yours. 

"Jesus, when did you get so soft? Women are men's property. They should obey us. And the sooner you get that through your head, the sooner you'll be able to accept it." Peter hissed. "You know what? I think I might just show you what I mean once we get to where I'm taking you both. Show you how a man treats what belongs to him." 

Morgan almost cursed audibly. What did he just do? 

○●♡●○ 

Spencer was the first one Hotch notified. And he was the first one to burst into the BAU determined to get you back. Now it was 11 hours later, and they had nothing. Nothing other than the stupid letter that had no DNA on it. Garcia had tried to look things up on Peter, but since he was so rich, he had someone erase all of his personal information off the web permanently. Meaning not even Garcia could find it. 

"Reid, are you alright?" Hotch asked, entering the conference room where Spencer was hunched over the letter and a written account of what he remembered you told him about Peter. And your past with him. 

"Does it look like, I'm alright, Hotch? On average in the US about 62,823 women over the age of 21 are abducted in a year. Each of those women have their own stories a-and--And I didn't do anything to stay here with her, it could-ve been me with her. Instead of Morgan. I should've been there--" Spencer began to ramble for what he felt was the millionth time that morning. And you had only just been taken the night before. 

"Reid." Hotch interrupts. 

"What? What could be so important that I need to turn away from trying to analyze this letter to try and find any sort of information on Calvin? To bring both of them back?" Spencer questioned, feeling his words drip with unintentional venom. 

"That's what I needed to speak to you about. We're all working hard to get them back, Reid. But we're working in shifts. And I believe you need a break. Even if it's small." Hotch attempted. Spencer groaned and pulled at his hair, tapping his pen against the table furiously. 

"No, Hotch. I don't need a damn break. I need to find them! Find (Y/N/N)!" Spencer exclaimed, tossing his pen at the table in frustration. 

"Reid, I know. We're all frustrated too. We have an APB out on his car and his license plate. He can't go far without drawing attention. We'll find her, Reid. Find her and Morgan. But we can't do that if you don't take a break." Hotch reaffirms. Spencer tightened his fist at his side. He sincerely wished he had some sort of stress ball in his hand so that he wouldn't be about to break a pen. But that wasn't in his abilities as a magician. 

"Hotch, you don't understand. She trusted me. Me! I was the first person she told about him and look where that got her! I failed her, Hotch! I said I'd protect her! Keep her safe! When she didn't come back to the apartment last night I panicked, okay? But I didn't get off my goddamn ass to go find her!" Spencer felt like he was going nuts inside his own head. Like he finally got his mother's schizophrenia and he was hallucinating all of this. 

"Reid… I may be your boss, but I also hope to be your friend. I know how you feel about her." Hotch informed, catching Spencer’s attention. "She would want you looking, yes. But she wouldn't want you destroying yourself in the process. Think of her, Spencer. You need a break. We need fresh eyes on this, and that's the only way you can try to obtain them. This case will still be worked on with or without you." 

Spencer looked down at the now black inked mark on his hand from the broken pen, feeling some of the anger begin to fizzle down. 

"You know the only reason I have you on this case is because of the information she shared with you." 

Spencer knew that was true. If he didn't, Hotch would have made him take the next however many days off until they found her. 

"All due respect, Hotch, but all I care about right now? Is finding her. And finding Morgan. I'm not going to quit now nor will I quit tomorrow. I've lost too many people, Hotch. I'm not going to lose her too. I can't." Spencer spoke up again, turning his gaze from the floor to Hotch's eyes. 

Aaron sighed and looked at the ground. "Spencer, why don't you go do something? Go home, eat something and take a shower. Then I'll clear you to continue this case. Until then, I will not let you touch another piece of evidence." 

"Hotch-!" Spencer began. 

"I'm doing this for your best interest and theirs. We need you completely focused on this case, Reid. We need you without distractions. This is the best way I can think of to achieve that." Hotch insists. "Now go home, or I will make Rossi escort you downstairs." Hotch orders before he leaves the room, leaving Spencer in shambles. He was usually useful in so many cases because of his 'genius'. But right now, he felt like he had an IQ of 3 when it came to trying to help find you. 

He sighed. Hotch was right. Once he had some coffee and some food maybe he'd be of more help. Of more open mind. 

He just hoped they'd find you before it was too late. The thought chilled his spine in a way he hated, that made him feel nauseated. No, he couldn't think like that. They were going to find you. They had to. You were counting on him and he couldn't let you down. 

After all, he did love you, didn't he?


	18. Chapter 18

The car stopped a few moments later, not giving any sort of indication as to where they were. Derek cursed softly, unable to tell where they were only by sight. He only knew they were somewhere in rural West Virginia. He had seen a sign near a fork in the road that showed him a town name he knew to be in West Virginia. So at least he knew there was civilization. 

"Out, both of you. And don't even think 'bout running." Peter scolded you. You had been silent the entire car ride, knowing what Peter planned to do with you before he could announce it. 

You got out of the car slowly, unable to convince your body to move any faster. Unfortunately, this message wasn't broadcasted to your captor, who put a stop to your 'laziness' quickly. 

Peter’s hand collided with your back and a fist gripped your hair by the roots, pulling your head back harshly. You would've normally loved having your hair pulled by a partner. But not him. Never him. 

"Faster, dammit! I don't have all damn day!" Peter scolded. You felt exhausted just from the verbal abuse. He finally let go, shoving you forward. Your door had already been open, so when he pushed you you fell from the car and landed in the gravel. A few stones dug into your palms and a few others into your arms and shins. 

"Great, see this is why you're such a damn cunt. You're useless unless it involves putting out. Such a damn whore." Peter gritted his teeth. 

Derek felt nauseous and disgusted by Peter’s actions, hurrying as fast as his knee would let him to your side once he was out of the car. 

A hand shoved him away, causing him to stumble. "Stay the fuck away from her. You aren't to touch her. Ever. Understand?" Peter hissed. Morgan felt bile building in his stomach. He had always dealt with guys like this in cases, but he'd never been a victim. He could completely empathize with the fear that they felt now. 

"L-leave him alone, Peter." You cough, spitting out a pebble that had entered your mouth. Peter growled and gripped Morgan’s shoulder tightly. 

"Or what? You fight back, I'll dislocate his shoulder. You run away, I kill him. I thought we went over the rules, pet?"

Peter sauntered over to you, and kicked your stomach, causing you to cough violently. "You shouldn't have left, pet. Then just maybe your brother would still be alive. Maybe you wouldn't be in pain right now. You'd have little ones to keep you company. But you left." Peter sneered, delivering another harsh kick to your abdomen, stepping on your chest when you landed on your back. You had blood on your cheeks and in the corner of your mouth from the abuse, feeling weaker with each kick. 

"Come on, (Y/N)! Don't worry about me dammit! Fight back!" Morgan called, finally freeing his hands from the knot he had been working to get off of his wrists. 

"Why don't you tell him why you won't fight back, hm? Tell him why even after learning to defend yourself in many different ways, you won't fight me?" Peter gritted his teeth, smirking down at your helpless form. 

You already had tears in your eyes. You knew he had to be lying about your brother. But even then, he was still in danger. Everyone you knew was in danger if you fought back. You coughed and looked over at Morgan weakly. 

"Because, everyone would get hurt. N-not just you. E-everyone…" you sputter. Morgan straightened his lips into a strained line, watching you helplessly. If he pursued Peter, he'd get another injury. Then what help would he be to you? 

"That's right. Now, mr. Derek Morgan. Why aren't you playing hero and knocking me out? Isn't that what ladies love? The hero?" Peter asks evilly. 

"D‐don't… don't answer… D-derek please-" you beg. Peter growled and pressed harder with his foot on your chest. 

"You don't speak unless spoken to, bitch." 

Peter turned his head and looked towards Morgan. He smirked and tossed him a ring of keys. "Since you have open hands, unlock that door over there. The dark wooden one." He demanded. 

Derek gripped the metal ring in his hands, glaring at Peter. "And say I don't?" He asks. 

Peter rolled his eyes and pulled out a gun from his back. "She dies. And then you do." Peter threatens, putting the gun barrel against your temple. You swallow and stare at Morgan, shaking your head gently. 

Morgan sighed and gripped the keys in his hands. He then wandered over to the cellar-like door and unlocked it once he found the right key. 

"There." Morgan deadpans, tossing them back to Peter in an attempt to avoid yet another conflict. 

Peter catches them in his hand, a dirty smile on his face. "Finally learning your place. It's about time, D." 

Derek fought off a growl. He hated that nickname. Anything Garcia came up with was fine. Hell, he'd accept Der. But not that. Never that. 

Peter pulled you up by your hair and shoved you forward. "Get inside. Now." 

Your head was tender now with how harshly he was gripping your hair. It almost felt like he was pulling your hair out. You bit back a whimper and got to your feet, barely able to see in front of you from all the previous abuse you endured. 

You entered the small cellar cut out of the mountain, finding the smell to be revolting. Whatever had been in here before you had died. And knowing Peter? They probably did. 

You entered and stood still, waiting for your next instruction. Morgan watched you with pity in his eyes, trying to refrain from speaking. 

"Go put those chains on her. Then put the other set on yourself." Peter growled into Morgan’s ear. Morgan felt his anger boiling hotter in his veins, but after what he had caused before, he wasn't going to risk it. 

Morgan entered the cellar and gripped your wrists. You gave him a reassuring look, and laid yourself onto the ground. You propped up against the rock, holding out your wrists for him. Morgan gritted his teeth and clamped the first shackle around your left wrist, soon repeating it with your right. 

"Good, now you do it yourself. I can't have you open to touching her." Peter sneered, pushing Morgan towards the right wall of the cellar. He was to your right, and you were to his left. But just far enough away that you could only reach up to his knee. His restraints were much tighter than yours, making you feel terrible. He didn't deserve to be involved in this because of you. 

Peter twirled the keys with his finger a few times before he put them on a hook. "I'll be back. Can't have the mother of my children starving, now can I?" He asks, glaring at you expectantly. You felt the pit in your stomach grow, but you didn't say anything. 

Peter turned around and exited the cellar, slamming the cellar door behind him. You jumped slightly and squeezed your eyes shut. 

Both of you stayed quiet for a good few minutes. The silence was unbearable, knowing so much about yourself was just revealed. You pulled your knees close and took a heavy sigh, knowing Derek would be asking questions soon. 

"Go ahead… ask away." You murmured, feeling exhausted and tired of staying awake. 

He took a few moments, but eventually asked "Are you okay?" 

You chuckle weakly, leaning your aching head against the harsh stone wall of the cellar. "That wasn't what I meant." 

"Well too bad, kid. But really, are you okay? He didn't hurt you too bad, did he?" Derek asked. You shook your head, never looking down from the ceiling as you let out a sarcastic and tired laugh. 

"My stalker just took you along with me when you have nothing to do with this. He just made you lock me up to try and get me to hate you, and he plans on trying to get me pregnant. Whether I want it or not. And knowing him he'll do it in front of you t-too." You whimper, your voice cracking as you squeeze your eyes shut and let yourself cry. 

"Kid… don't think like that. Without me you'd have to deal with this asshole all on your own. And I'll be damned if I'm gonna let him hurt you like that. I don't care if both of my legs get shot up." Morgan huffs. 

You let a small smile come onto your face. He was such a good friend. For him to not regret walking you to your car. For him to not want to leave you here. 

"Speaking of which, I should probably get that bullet out." 

"What? (Y/N) you heard him, kid. If I touch you he-" Morgan began. 

"He said if you touch me. He never said if I touched you." You insist and allow yourself to pull him slightly closer so you could treat his wound. 

Morgan stayed silent as he watched you, bracing himself for the pain. You looked up at him pitifully before you dug into his leg gently and pulled out the bullet that had thankfully not gone in too far. 

You looked up again, seeing Morgan’s grimace as he held his head against the wall. "There, I'm sorry. It was gonna hurt no matter what." 

"Don't apologize, dammit. It's that son of a bitch's fault for shooting me in the first place." He groaned in slight relief of his wound being empty. 

You shrugged off your jacket, ripping the sleeves to get it completely off of you. Morgan raised an eyebrow at you, but soon figured out what you were doing once you tore a sleeve off and wrapped it around his knee. 

"There. Just don't move it a ton." You advise, sighing gently as you backed yourself against the wall again. 

"Kid… we're gonna get out of here. Hotch, Prentiss, Reid, they're gonna find us. You know that pretty boy won't let you stay missing." Morgan chuckles somewhat. You appreciated the attempt at cheering you up, but at that moment, all you wanted was to sleep. Pass time until the devil came back and made you eat something probably packed with nutrition for a pregnant woman. 

"Derek… even then. He's gonna try in a couple days. A week at most. And he's gonna figure out I got an implant. Any pregnancy won't be viable." You alert him. "And once he does, he'll dig it out of me. And try again." 

Morgan stared at you in disbelief, unable to believe you'd know all of this was going to happen. "Wha-how-?" He began to ask. 

"You forget that I was 'engaged' to him for a year. I know him because he made me stay by his side almost 24/7. So I know how he thinks. How he behaves. And that he rarely ever lies." 

You sighed and laid a hand on your stomach. "And if he ever does, we're screwed."

○●♡●○ 

A few days later, they thankfully were getting somewhere. 

"Hotch, do you have that list of his properties? I wanna go over them and put them in the geographical profile." Spencer urged. 

Hotch raised an eyebrow at the mention of his name and nodded. "Sure, I'll have Garcia print them out for you. Anything else you need?" 

"No, I plan on analyzing the letter again, trying to see if I can gather something from the way he writes, his grammar, how hard he presses on the paper-" 

"Understood, Reid. Get to it as soon as you can. But please, don't overwork yourself. You've been here since 4 this morning." Hotch warned. 

"I'm fine Hotch. Just trying to find them." He quickly answers, walking away from him and quickly heading towards Garcia's cave. 

If he were to tell the truth, he hadn't truly let himself rest. He hadn't so that he wouldn't wallow in the guilt he felt for your kidnapping. No matter how much JJ, Prentiss, Garcia, or even Hotch tried, he couldn't shake the feeling that had he not left without you, you would still be here. 

Spencer knocked on Garcia's door, taking a deep breath as he braced himself to face a very upset Garcia. 

The door swung open almost as soon as his first knock completed. Garcia looked up at him with worried eyes, almost on the brink of tears. "Please tell me you guys have a lead, because I am losing hope here and when I lose hope I eat ice cream and I can't do that here." 

"We don't know yet. But I was asking if you could print me that list of properties. And any clients of his that tried to sue him." Spencer asked. 

"What would that be for? He took (Y/N)!" Garcia asks. 

"I want to get a better understanding of what he's like. How he'll react to us going after him. I can't risk him hurting her because we made it overt that we were pursuing him." 

Garcia sighed and nodded. "Okay… I can get that for you. Just watch the printer and you'll find it." 

Spencer nodded and began to leave, turning around once more for a moment. 

"Garcia," he started. 

"Yes, Genius?" She asks with an exhausted sigh. 

"Do you… do you think you could open up her file?" 

"What do you mean?" Garcia asks. 

"I-I mean, maybe there's something there she… she forgot to tell me. Maybe I can find something there that tells me something about him." Spencer expressed. Garcia smiled gently at him and nodded. 

"I'll just add that to the print list and I'll get it to you as soon as I can. Godspeed. Now out before I cry at how pitiful you look." She says with a sad tone to her voice. She gestures and almost pushes him out, making him chuckle gently. 

Spencer shook his head and headed towards the printer to wait for his papers. 

○●♡●○ 

Spencer connected the properties, finding no real apparent pattern. He had already scoured over the letter a few dozen times, but was still waiting on your file. He circled an area in the middle of the map where Peter's main property was. That was the only thing he could find. None of these properties contained any sort of cellar or basement. Which was weird, considering the amount of money spent making these homes. Not even his own property had one. So none of the properties were viable to search. And they were all in a separate city and state entirely. Spencer realized he should have had Garcia narrow it down to Virginia properties. Or at the very least the tri state area. It had been a few days, and they had only received a location from Morgan’s phone once, and it proved them to be somewhere in-between Virginia and West Virginia. 

Spencer turned around and walked back over to the letter and tried to look over it again. Most of the language was possessive. He used plenty of 'me, my, mine,' and plenty of future tense. And the graphite was pressed into the paper pretty hard. So he was angry when he wrote this. 

Then his phone rang. Spencer widened his eyes and immediately answered it, hoping it to be one of the clients he had called. 

"Spencer?" 

Spencer was suddenly taken aback and found his concentration fall apart. "Mom?" He asks. 

"Spencer, how are you? I didn't expect you to answer my call this late." Diana asked. 

Spencer rubbed his face and felt an ache in his chest add to the rest of the weight he was carrying. "I… I'm fine Mom. Just… we have a really stressful case and I'm stuck on finding an answer." Spencer explained in as simple terms as he could. He suddenly realized why his mother was calling, and felt immediately guilty. 

"I'm so sorry about the letters. I would have sent them had this case not gotten so… personal." Spencer rubbed his forehead, suddenly feeling the weight of the bags of his eyes. 

"I can't tell you what to do, but I can tell you that she wouldn't want you blaming yourself." Diana replied. 

Spencer widened his eyes for a moment and blinked a few times. "H-how did-" 

"Crash, you've never acted like this before, unless it was about a girl you said you liked. Which was rare. But I still remember when you said you liked that…What exactly was her name?" Diana asked. 

"I don't want to remember, Mom. She…" Spencer sighed. "There's just a lot of things I have to figure out. They're all relying on me. She's relying on me to find her. I just…" 

"Don't want to let her down?" Diana finishes. 

Spencer sighs. "Yeah." 

Spencer squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip, failing at his attempt not to cry. He wiped his eyes and inhaled sharply as he looked up. 

"Mom, I love her." 

Garcia walked into the room soon after, a grim look on her face. Spencer narrowed his eyebrows and looked up at her, mouthing 'What is it?' 

Garcia gave him a warning, uneasy look. Spencer sighed. 

"I actually gotta go. I'll call you when I get home." Spencer promised, letting his mother say goodbye before he hung up. 

"Did you get her file?" He asks, standing up and facing her. Garcia nodded wordlessly. Spencer tilted his head and looked at Garcia unsure. 

"Is there something in it I didn't know about?" He asks, looking at the manila folder in her hands. He stared at it, wondering what could be inside it that would make Garcia act like this. What terrible thing in your history would be that bad? He already knew the bad and the ugly, right?

Garcia took a deep breath. "Let's just say there's a lot to unpack in here. Like, a truckload. And not one bit of it is good."


	19. Chapter 19

4 days, 8 hours, and 53 minutes you'd been here. Not that you were counting. And you hadn't seen Peter in three. He had dropped off your food, but then neglected to feed you for two days when he discovered you'd been feeding Derek as well. Sharing with him was apparently off-limits. 

You felt the gentle but painful rumble of your stomach announce itself as you tried to curl up on the floor. Peter had already tried to come onto you, but you had put up a hell of a fight enough that he couldn't even get your pants off. Maybe that was also why he hadn't dropped off food for three days. He had left plenty of water though, at least he knew how to keep the two of you alive. 

You coughed softly and shivered. You assumed you'd gained a fever, but then again there was no way to be sure. But the way you felt miserable, even more-so than you had been the first day you were in this cellar, seemed to count for something. 

Derek was still asleep against the wall. His head had a semi healed gash that you would have bandaged if you had the chance, but you were too far away for the chains to reach. You held your stomach, thankful that you still had enough strength to fight Peter off. But you didn't know how much longer without food you could do so. 

You squeezed your abdomen a little tighter, biting your lip to distract yourself from the pain in your stomach. Whatever Peter had been putting in your food had been causing your sex drive to become overly active, making you desperate and uncomfortable at the same time. You both thankfully had something to use the bath room, but it was always painful for you. But you had worse things going for you, so you didn't mention it to Morgan. 

Slowly though, Morgan began to wake up, rubbing his eyes to the best of his ability. He cracked his neck a little, wincing at the pop that resulted. He turned his gaze towards you, immediately sighing. "K-kid? You still alive?" He asks. You let out a small chuckle. 

"Not any more than I was… 6 hours ago when you asked me that." You tease tiredly, groaning at the way your chest ached. Morgan sighed again but harder, blowing out his exhale sharply. 

"Maybe you shouldn't have shared your food with me. Maybe you'd have more food." Derek shifted uncomfortably against the wall, stretching his arms as much as he could and adjusting his injured leg that was healing nicely. The only good thing about the situation. 

"You could've died if I didn't feed you. Don't give me that crap." You grunted, sitting back up as you gave up on trying to sleep again. "I don't care if he kills me for feeding you. I wouldn't be able to sit here and eat all of it without giving you some. You know it." You insist, falling into a heavy coughing fit. 

"Kid, you got a fever. If we don't get you something soon, you're just gonna get worse." Derek sighed. You let out tsk and smiled tiredly. 

"Oh he doesn't care. As long as I still conceive he doesn't care if I'm sick or healthy. After I'm pregnant is when he'll 'care'." 

Derek groaned and shook his head. He didn't know what to say. They had no real way out and with no real end to the madness in sight, it was dwindling his hope for being found, let alone rescued. 

You leaned your head back against the wall again, having no more tears left to shed. That was all you did for the first two days. Now you knew that wasn't going to get you anything except a pounding headache. 

You sniffled and wiped your nose gently, feeling exhausted. You swallowed harshly and kept your eyes closed. You had a feeling in your gut that told you today was going to be different. A bad kind of different. 

Five minutes after you both grew quiet, you heard the rumbling of gravel under tires, causing you to tense up. Derek widened his eyes and cursed under his breath, his arms already pulling against the chains again as he willed himself to be able to protect you. 

The jingle of keys echoed outside the cellar until it finally stopped and the doors creaked open. You backed up against the wall and looked at the floor, unwilling to view your captor. 

"Oh come on now, (Y/N/N), where's that fight you had the first day you were here? The first day I met you you were so willing to deny the rules. Defy them, even. But now here you are, an obedient bitch." Peter sneered. You could feel the burn of his gaze on you. It was almost so overwhelming that you almost didn't smell the food. 

The loud grumble of your stomach gave you away, making your mouth water at the idea of even a little food. Peter smirked. 

"You want this? You hungry, whore?" Peter shook the bag in front of you tauntingly. You refused to look up at him still, knowing he was going to turn this all back around to hurt you. 

"Peter, man, infertility is a product of excessive starvation. You really wanna keep starving her?" Morgan tried. You smiled just barely, knowing Spencer had to have been the one to teach him that. 

Peter sneered. "Yeah, I do. But this food isn't for her. It's for you. If she'll do what I ask." He smirked. You could already sense what he had planned, and your heart sank to your stomach when you realized it. Derek did too soon after you did. 

Derek looked to you desperately, shaking his head. "K-kid, don't. I don't care if I don't eat! Don't give into him!" He begged. 

You looked at him with a weakening smile. "I-I have to feed you Derek…." You begin, causing the mischievous grin to grow on Peter’s face. Derek looked at you guiltily, shaking his head desperately. 

"B-but… h-he's gotta feed me eventually. S-so I'm sorry. I-I can't give into him." You apologized, squeezing your eyes shut. Peter's smile immediately fell into a scowl. He tossed the food at Morgan’s feet, sneering at him. 

"Eat, you bastard. She's gonna let me. Whether she likes it or not." Peter hisses. Morgan immediately starts pulling at the chains, wishing they were looser on him for him to fight Peter off of you. 

You kept your eyes shut and swallowed harshly you knew you couldn't fight back against him, yet you still found enough strength to keep your thighs closed tightly. Peter growled and his hand soon swatted across your face. 

Morgan called out to you, encouraging you to fight him off, but you could barely hear him. You were falling into your subconscious to hopefully pass through what you knew was going to happen eventually. 

Peter forced your legs apart and tore your pants off without caring about the seams. They became a shredded heap beside you as he made quick work of your underwear as well. 

"It's about time I got to experience this." 

🛑RAPE WARNING!!⚠️ if you would like to skip this, please scroll down to the ⚜. 

Peter then began pulling off his belt and shoving his pants down enough to reveal his rather wimpy groin. You kept your eyes closed though, not wanting to experience this any more than you had to. 

Peter then smirked down at you, grabbing your hips tightly and pushing himself into you just as harshly. You grew choked up, finding tears bursting from your eyes despite your desperate attempt to escape through your subconscious. 

Peter let out a sigh, as if this was getting him off having you finally underneath him. He knew you didn't want this. Nor were you letting him. His weight was crushing you against the ground and the wall. 

"You know, I have to give your mom some credit. After all she is the one who gave me your location. What luck that the world decided to give you back to me by chance." Peter admitted almost euphorically, beginning his uncomfortable thrusts into your unwelcome entrance. 

You squeezed a sob in your throat, covering your mouth with a hand. Peter had pinned your legs under him, keeping you from kicking him off of you. Derek had grown quiet after his curses and begging had done nothing. He wished he could look away, but he couldn't. You didn't blame him. Nor would you ever. He wasn't making Peter do this. 

Peter continued, his thrusts only growing harsher and brutal as he continued. He rolled his eyes into the back of his head, pulling back almost before shoving back into you. "Ngh… damn, how long has it been since you've really had a man in you? You're as tight as a pathetic virgin." 

You hiccup and coughed into your hand, feeling your body's heat growing warmer and warmer. You were overheating and sweating profusely from your forehead. You kept attempting the subconscious state you desperately wanted to achieve, growing closer with each of his thrusts. 

"Am I really popping your cherry? Did none of those men convince you to put out?" He taunted, causing you to fall even farther away from reality. 

"Bet if I threatened your brother again you'd put out for me. Always caring so much about everyone. You sacrifice everything for them. Just like you ran away from me to keep him safe, right?" Peter hissed, gripping your hair at the scalp and pulling your head forward. 

Your head hit the wall hard, causing your vision to grow blurry. You felt your hand become weaker until it fell from your mouth and you closed your eyes again, falling into a sleep you didn't want to wake from. 

°•⚜•° 

Again you woke, feeling a heavy and aching pain in your lower half. Your eyelids felt like they weighed a thousand pounds each, but you managed to keep them open slightly. You slowly adjusted your position, trying to hold your head up. 

"(Y/N)?!" 

You lifted your head up again as far as you could, seeing Morgan’s distressed face looking towards you. 

"H-hey, Derek…" you coughed, soon grimacing as you felt the disgusting feeling of what remained of Peter fall from inside you. 

Derek sighed, swallowing softly. "Hey…" he whispered, reaching as far as he could towards you. You eased up and tried to reach over, barely being able to touch his hand. 

"Is… is he gone?" You ask. 

"Yeah, he left an hour ago. I…" Derek sighed, trailing from his in coming question. You shook your head and squeezed your eyes shut. 

"No… I…" you whimper and for the first time in a few days you begin to cry. You pulled your legs closer to you, wincing at the incredible pain you felt in your core. 

Derek gritted his teeth and tightened his fists. He just sat there. He didn't do anything. He hated himself for it. He wished he could've done something. 

You sobbed hard, hugging your knees as you tried desperately to disappear. You wanted to leave. Anything seemed better than this hell. 

Derek struggled to grab his phone from his pocket, sending their current area one last time. He looked over to you, and knew he had to do something. It had only been four days and you were deteriorating before his eyes. He looked over at the cold bag of food and eased it over towards you. 

You shrunk back away from the noise, shaking your head At the bag. That food was what got you into this position. You didn't want it. 

Derek exhaled softly and eased it again towards you. "(Y/N/N)... kid you gotta eat. I know this… this food isn't ideal. I haven't even touched it. But if you don't eat, you're not gonna have enough strength to escape with me." He insisted. You then begin to laugh miserably. 

"I'm not escaping until I get pregnant, Derek. Then I'll be a prisoner in his home until after I have the kid. Then I'll be stuck. You, I might be able to get out." 

"What do you mean?" 

"He wants me to give in, Derek. That's all he wants. For me to finally consent. And not fight him. And I'll give him that. If, he lets you go." You explain. 

Derek's pupils grew large, his eyes doing the same. "Kid--No! I'm not gonna let you let him rape you again just so I can get out!" He exclaims in disbelief. "You don't deserve this, believe me." 

You sighed and smiled at him. "I know, Derek. But I'm never going to forget this. You might be able to make peace with it. And even then, if you get out, find your way to town, you can call Hotch and the team. Find me then." You propositioned. Derek's eyebrows tilted up on his face, his heart breaking. 

"Kid… i-I…" 

"You don't have a choice, Derek. The next time he comes in here, I'll make him the offer. If I eat now… I'll have enough strength to fight him off next time if he doesn't agree. He'll have to eventually, if he really wants me to submit to him." 

Derek sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. You were right. No matter how many other escape plans there were, this one seemed the most likely to work. He would be allowed to escape and he could find better cell reception than one bar that liked to fade out and come back on. Once he did, he could call the police, the team. Get them here. And pull you out of the fire. Some sacrifices had to be made. He just wished it wasn't you who had to make them. 

○●♡●○ 

"Garcia, what do you mean there's no good in here?" Spencer asks. 

"I mean there is absolutely no good to her past. When she was 7 her family started abusing her after she began to refuse the family company. At least, that's what she told the doctors and they did nothing since her parents were one of the main stock holders of the hospital." Garcia began. Spencer looked down at the file Garcia had handed him in shock, reading through each legalized detail of your life was laid out in front of him. Garcia was telling the truth. Every bit of it.

"Why even do that to her own child? They groomed her to be someone she wasn't. Why take away her freedom of choice too?" Spencer asked as he sped through the details in your file, finding his heart aching with each and every word. 

"I don't know, but it doesn't end there. Her brother was the result of an affair her mother had with (Y/N)'s tutor, made her raise him as a sort of punishment. She was bullied throughout her highschool years for her memory and her smarts, earning her a week in a mental hospital that the school counselor made her attend. Her parents had tried everything to discharge her early, stating she 'is an overreacting, selfish brat and drama queen. She isn't depressed.'" Penelope read off, looking down at Spencer with an uncomfortable look. "I wish I could say I was exaggerating but unfortunately I am not." 

Spencer read through all the horrors you'd faced from your parents and suddenly his issues felt very small compared to yours. Yet you still held your head high. You still found the strength to laugh, to talk, to be a normal human being. Anyone who knew all of you would understand if you needed a break. But you never took one. 

"She went to multiple universities under a false name to avoid suspicions from her parents after paying her universities to send her parents updates on diplomas she wasn't working towards. All of this to avoid her parents? Just because they have money doesn't mean they get to control her life--" Spencer began to rant. He felt his mind rushing with anger filled thoughts. He wished he had hurt your mother a little physically when he met her.

"When she turned 18 her parents received a payment of 10,000 from a mister Peter Calvin in exchange for their daughter's hand in marriage, to which she refused for a whole year until she finally gave in exactly a year after the first. After that year of engagement she bought a plane ticket and changed her name. After that she continued going to school. Then the rest is almost history." Penelope rambled on, detailing everything Spencer already knew. He just felt angry at himself for letting this get so bad so fast. Then he read a little lower, and his heart sunk. And his hatred for your mother grew. 

"'Recently there was a wiring of cash to a Mrs. Grant in exchange for the location of her daughter. When asked on this information, she quoted this by saying 'She needs to learn to grow up. Life isn't about getting what you want.'" Spencer read, feeling as though the words were poison on his tongue. 

"So she sold her own daughter, twice." Penelope answered, nodding with a sad look on her face. Spencer felt his hands tightening harshly against his pants. If he didn't do something right now he was going to hit something. No he needed to hit something. Preferably Peter. And in his family jewels. 

"Yeah. She did." Spencer spat. "Garcia, can we get a hold of this brother of hers? I wanna talk to him. And her mother. I wanna talk to her too." Spencer sneered again. Penelope nodded, slightly afraid of Spencer’s current state. 

Spencer squeezed his eyes shut and stood up, resisting the urge to throw the chair he was sitting in. So instead he thrusted his pen at the closed door and found himself a comfortable part of the floor to crouch and release his anger. 

He needed to find you. He had to.


	20. Chapter 20

Another day had passed, and here Spencer was looking at the witch that was your mother. He couldn't help the sneer that wanted to appear on his face as your mother kept demanding a lawyer. 

Hotch walked up beside him and raised an eyebrow. "Reid, why is she here? Did you find something?" 

Spencer nodded. "It just showed up in (Y/N)'s file that her mother sold her daughter's location to Peter. So I thought we could get something from her. Either way, she sold her daughter. That's a federal offence." Spencer spoke somberly, not expressing a single emotion other than anger. 

Hotch sighed. "You may be right, but she is requesting a lawyer. That may make getting information from her harder. I'll have Prentiss and JJ question her. You will stand out here." 

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows and turned his head towards Hotch. "What? I thought I would question her, Hotch." He asked. Hotch turned his gaze upon Spencer and began to speak. 

"You're too personally connected to this case. We cannot have you in there. Unless you want to do the paperwork that comes with breaking one of the rules of the bureau." Hotch explained. "Now please, we have a guest who says he may have information on (L/N). I think you should speak with him." 

Hotch then leaves, walking past Spencer and sending JJ and Prentiss into the interview room with your mother. 

Spencer let out a soft groan, rubbing his forehead with his thumb and forefinger. As much as Spencer wished him to be wrong, Hotch was right. Spencer would only want to fight your mother. Only insult her. And that wouldn't get them any closer to finding you. 

So he decided to begin his trek towards the entrance of the BAU. 

What he saw wasn't what he expected. He had expected Gabriel, your father. Hell, even a butler. But instead he saw a man with paler ginger hair and (e/c) eyes. He looked to be almost a male version of you. 

Spencer walked up to him, raising an eyebrow. "Can I help you with something?" Spencer asked. 

"Y-yeah, m-my name's Arthur… Arthur Grant. Son of Margaret and Jeremiah Grant. (Y/N)'s my big sister." He answers, trying to straighten his posture and look more confident than he truly was. Spencer felt a bit of remorse for him, having felt the same his first day of the BAU. 

"Ah, so you're the brother she talked about." Spencer smiled gently. He hoped you at least had one member of your family that wasn't trying to force you into anything. 

"She… she talks about me?" He asks, his eyes shimmering with a bit of hope. Spencer nodded. 

"Yeah, you're really special to her." 

"Wow… I thought she forgot about me." Arthur sadly chuckled. 

"I don't believe that's possible, Arthur." Spencer expressed. Arthur tilted his head in confusion, opening his mouth to restate his statement. 

Spencer shook his head. "She isn't capable of forgetting anything. I would doubt she would forget anyone that important to her." Spencer smiled warmly towards Arthur, glad to see his smile that was so similar to yours. 

Arthur looked down, his cheeks impossibly bright. "How old are you, Arthur?" Spencer asks. He looked to be around 18-20. But he wasn't sure. 

"I'm 19. Gonna be 20 in three months. I-in January." 

"What schooling do you have?" Spencer asks. Arthur sighed. 

"I'm unfortunately not the genius my sister is. I'm only just starting college. I wanna take over the family business and change it into something that can help people. Like give help to people with drug addictions and people trying to get back on their feet after escaping an abusive relationship. I got the idea from my sister." Arthur enthused, his eyes sparkling with wonder. Then they dulled as he remembered where his sister was, and he looked down. "I only wish my parents would let me. (Y/N) doesn't deserve what they put her through. Just cause I'm not my dad's real kid doesn't mean I'm not a Grant." 

Spencer could sense the determination radiating from your brother. His face was contorted into a face of both anger and resolution. He realized they both had the same goal in mind. They both had information. 

"A-arthur, do you mind if I ask you some questions? You might have caught some things while (Y/N) was still living with you and your parents." Spencer looked towards Arthur, gesturing for him to follow him towards a separate interview room. 

Arthur nodded. "Anything for my big sis." 

○●♡●○

You shook from your raging fever, curling up in what clothing pieces remained. You were starving again, even after eating a small amount of the food that had caused you so much pain. 

"D-derek…" you whispered, turning your body towards him. Derek looked up from his spot against the wall, looking at you with a sigh. 

"Yeah?" 

"Do… do you think you could send them our location? Coordinates? A-at least when you get out of here?" You ask. Morgan sighed and flipped open his phone. He barely had any battery left. Apparently this cellar blocked any real tracking. At least he assumed so. Otherwise he knew Garcia would've been able to track him by now. 

"I don't know kid. Maybe? I'm getting low on battery. And I can't keep it on for long. You said that he might have some sort of technology detecting stuff." Morgan explained, stretching uncomfortably against the wall. 

You sigh in defeat, wrapping your arms around your middle. Your insides felt on fire, and your chest felt heavy like it was filled with rocks. 

"(Y/N)... how're you feeling?" Morgan asks after a small bout of silence. 

"Like I'm dying. Which probably isn't further from the truth." You groan, holding a hand to your forehead. 

"You ain't dying. Not while I'm here, okay?" 

"Derek, you and I both know that if I don't get any medical attention soon, this fever is going to kill me." 

"Kid, please. You gotta stay alive. If not for me do it for Reid. You still gotta tell him how you feel." Derek insisted. You laughed pathetically, sighing miserably afterwards. 

"He's not gonna want used goods." You protest. 

"Used goods--(Y/N), you are not used goods if someone forced themselves onto you. You hear me? Just cause that--that asshat decided you were his property doesn't mean you ain't good. You are perfect, kid. Reid's gonna be stupid not to want you. And I can tell he does." Morgan exclaims, wishing he could be beside you. Maybe that would make getting through this easier for you. 

"Morgan--" 

"No, you need to listen, (Y/N). I'm telling you the truth. He wants you because of who you are. Not cause you look pure. Not cause he wants a virgin. He wants the girl who out smarted him the day they met. The girl who profiled me better than I could. He wants you. The girl who's memory is better than his." Derek's words immediately began to swell in your heart. You hoped he was right. This newfound hope was little, but it was there. 

"He wants you, (Y/N). Not JJ. Not some busty blond bimbo. You. And we're gonna get out of here, alright? And your gonna go to that dance with him. I'm gonna go with Garcia. And we're gonna have a good time." He insists, putting an image in your head of what the dance would be like. Spencer in a cute suit or bowtie and his best suit. His hair fixed as much as it could be. You as dolled up as you like, in a fitting ballroom (gown/suit). It gave you something to dream of. And you think Derek knew that. 

You closed your eyes and began to imagine the music, the dancing, the food. Mostly, you imagined Spencer, looking at you with all the love he had for you. Before you knew it you felt warm tears falling from your eyes. 

Then your little daydream was interrupted by the sound of tires against gravel. You felt your heart pound, but not as fast as before. You turned to Derek and nodded, sighing softly and swallowing a gulp. 

Derek looked at you nervously, not attempting to hide how afraid he was you were going to be hurt again and he wouldn't be able to help you. 

The familiar jingle of the keys came to your ear, making you pull your legs under you so Peter would have a harder time getting to you. Thankfully you had managed to salvage your underwear, and put them back on hours before. 

Peter then entered the cellar, tossing a bag of food towards Derek. "Eat." He demanded. 

You felt a thumping in your chest, breathing heavily as you waited for him to acknowledge you. You unfortunately didn't have to wait long. 

"You gonna submit to me, whore? Or am I gonna have to take you by force again? Or is that a kink of yours?" Peter asks, his voice like nails on a chalkboard to your ears. 

"I will only submit to you on one condition." You answer, squeezing your sides. Peter widens his eyes with glee and smirks. 

"Anything." He says. "Within reason." 

"You let Derek go." You demand. 

Peter scoffed and looked away from you, as if you had just made the stupidest request ever. "I can't let him go! I'd lose my leverage! I can't have you running away again. Nice try." 

"I mean it. I will submit if and only if you let him go. If you won't, I'll keep fighting you. I'll knee you so many times in the balls you won't be able to get me pregnant." You threaten. Peter growled and stormed closer to you, gripping the flimsy button down you were left in. 

"You think you can just order me around like a slave? Think again. I'm your master here. When I say submit, you submit." He scowled. 

You tilted your head up and looked away from him, as if he wasn't worth looking at. "Well I won't submit like a bitch in heat, unless you let him go. He stays? You go home without being satisfied." 

Peter's nostrils flared in anger as he stared at you, trying to get you to look at him to no avail. He tossed you back against the wall and snarled. 

"Fine, be a bitch." He grumbled, leaving soon after with a slam to the cellar door. 

You jumped again from the sound, sighing gently once you heard his engine start and his car rumble away. 

Derek let out an audible sigh, you pairing that with an easing of your tense shoulders. 

"You okay? You were badass." Derek complimented. You chuckled gently, sighing and smiling for the first time that week. 

"Yeah… Yeah I'm fine. I guess I just used my interrogation and negotiating skills. Or it was just confidence. Wherever it came from, I don't know." 

"Still, he's gonna have to give in if you're that confident each time." Derek pointed out. 

"He's a narcissist. He'll do anything to get what he wants. So it's only a matter of time until he does. I won't let him get me any other way. I don't care how much aphrodisiac stuff he laced this food with." You insisted again, gesturing for Derek to hand you some of the food. He nodded and separated the food, giving you the bigger portion. 

"Still… I feel bad about leaving you. Making you stay here with him while I get to find shelter in town." He says with a sigh, beginning to eat reluctantly. 

"Derek, I know this goes against everything you stand for, but this is the only way we both have a chance of getting out of this. I think he still has my phone. But I have Hotch's number memorized. Once…" you sigh, swallowing gently. "Once he's been successful, if he moves me from here to somewhere else, I'll call him and tell him the address. Okay?" You settle. Derek grimaces at the notion of Peter even being 'successful' in anything related to you. 

"Alright, just… don't give up on us. On me. I won't let him keep you." 

"I know." 

○●♡●○ 

Spencer took a seat in front of Arthur and pulled out the case file, pushing different images and points from your file in front of him. 

"Arthur, how aware were you of the abuse your sister went through?" He began, grimacing internally as he remembered that Arthur wasn't a suspect. 

Arthur looked down, fiddling with his thumbs. "I… I knew of it. Only bits and pieces. The stuff she wanted to tell me. Everything else is a blurr. I was just sent to public school every day while she was made to go to this private school. It wasn't till she met Peter that I started growing more hypervigilant and aware of what was going on around me." He answered. For a kid his age, he had a pretty good vocabulary. 

"What do you mean by that, Arthur? Did you pay attention to what was going on with her more? Or was it something else?" 

"I just started listening in on conversations my parents would have around me. I would talk with my sister and notice her body language. Especially whenever her phone went off or she got a call. I figured he was stalking her when I scared him away from her window. I told him I'd call the police, 'future brother-in-law' or not." Arthur explained, his eyes finally meeting Spencer’s. 

"She told me that as well. T-that he would send her text messages and emails. Call her multiple times." Spencer relays. 

"Yeah. I figured that. Then when she started saving up money and was coming home at night with bruises, I knew it was onky a matter of time till she wanted to run away. She tried to shelter me from all of it. I get it. But I was 14. It wasn't like I wasn't paying attention to anything but video games or girls." 

Spencer sighed and looked down at the file, trying to figure out what to ask Arthur about. What he might've been able to figure out. 

"Arthur, can you recall the last time you overheard your parents talking about Peter? Did anything stick out to you?" He asked. 

"I don't know… I can remember yeah. I don't know about the entire conversation." He sighed. Spencer shook his head. 

"That's okay. Do you mind if we do a cognitibe interview?" Spencer suggests. 

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "I don't know… what even is it?" 

"It's something we use to help you remember details your mind picked up on that you aren't aware of. You see, our brains pick up all kinds of information, not just what your able to remember. This is supposed to help you access that memory and everything else that happened that day." Spencer explained, holding his hands out for Arthur to take. 

Arthur sighed and nodded, taking Spencer’s hands. Spencer was so focused on helping you he ignored the warning sirens in his head about germs. 

"Okay, can you pinpoint the memory?" Spencer began. 

Arthur closed his eyes and nodded. "Yeah, I think I can." 

"Tell me what was the weather like." Spencer insisted. 

"It… it was warm. Summer. Just a couple months ago." 

"Great, now tell me what you were wearing that day." 

"...a red button down and khakis." Arthur managed, his eyes moving under his eyelids. 

"Good. Now, where are you?" 

"I...I'm in the dining room. My parents are in the study. I can hear them." 

"What are they talking about, Arthur?" 

"Peter. They're talking about something involving Peter." 

"Try to get closer. What about Peter?" 

"I...I don't...they're saying something about (Y/N). That Peter’s getting restless about getting her as his bride. That he's already bought them a piece of property to build a house on." Arthur strained. Spencer widened his eyes. 

"Where? Where is that, Arthur?" 

"I-I don't know, they don't say." 

Spencer sighed and let Arthur's hand go. At least that gave them an option to have Garcia look for new properties Peter purchased and had work done on in the past three to 6 months. 

Arthur opened his eyes and his eyebrows tilted up. "Did… did I help, at all?" He asks. Spencer nodded. 

"Definitely. I'll get our technical analyst to try and pinpoint the property." Spencer assured, gathering the pieces of the case file he had spread out. Arthur stood up and brushed his hand down the front of his shirt. 

"Okay… I should… probably go before my mom finds out I'm here. I left a little while after she was brought in." Arthur sighed. Spencer shook his head and put a hand on Arthur's shoulder. 

"You don't have to listen to her. You're an adult. Legally and mentally. You can make your own choices without her approval. And besides," Spencer began, a slight smile on his face. "I'm sure (Y/N)'s gonna want to see you once we find her." 

Arthur looked over at Spencer hopeful. "You think?" 

Spencer shook his head. "I know." 

Then a knock came at the door, surprising both Spencer and Arthur. Spencer jumped a bit and blinked a few times. 

"Stay here, I'll only be a moment." He assures Arthur, patting his shoulder like Morgan did to him numerous times before opening the door to the room. 

When he opened the door, Erin Strauss stood in front of him, making his eyes go respectively wide. 

"Mrs Strauss I-" Spencer began. 

"We don't have time for the formalities, Dr. Reid. Your suspect is causing a scene. She demands to speak to you, and refuses to let anyone else question her." Erin explains, holding up a hand to stop Spencer from speaking. 

"O-okay. Lead the way I guess." Spencer answered, his mind filling with a mix of emotions. 

Guess getting Garcia on that search for the property would have to wait. The demon that was your mother was going to have to come first. And Spencer wasn't sure he was going to be able to keep himself civil.


	21. Chapter 21

Spencer paced outside the interview room, gripping the manilla case folder that had almost become attached to his hands. He had begun to sweat, and his mind was working in overdrive to figure out what he was going to do with the information he had received from your brother. Morgan would be so much better at this, Spencer though, running an anxious hand through his hair. 

“Woah, somebody’s nervous. You about to enter the presence of the Wicked Witch of the West’s evil sister?” 

Spencer turned his head and sighed at the sight of Prentiss leaned against the corner. Spencer closed his eyes and nodded, slowing his pacing down to only a few steps a minute. “Y-yeah, she’s requesting me and I-” Spencer began, taking a harsh deep breath to let his body catch up. “I’ve met her before. She’s…” Spencer lets out an exasperated sigh and grunts “She’s what Morgan calls a bitch. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to be in that room with her,” Spencer exclaimed, gesturing with his hand directed at the window. “Without losing my cool.” Spencer finished, taking another deep inhale. 

Prentis winces and walks over to him. “Yeah, I get it, Reid. She hurt the girl you love. She sold her own daughter. I was pretty enraged too. But you gotta remember this is your job too. Try to think of this as you interrogating an unsub. They’re pretty similar, don’t you think?” 

Spencer ponders this notion for a few moments, biting the corner of his lip as he thought. “You are right. She shares many characteristics with our past unsubs, especially narcissism. She may not have committed any murders or kidnappings, but she still committed a federal offence-” Spencer’s eyes lit up with the answer, pulling a smile onto Prentiss’s face. 

“Which she needs to confess to. It’s simple, Reid. You’ve done this plenty of times before. Think with your head, not just your heart. I swear your IQ gets chopped in half when it comes to (Y/N).” She chuckles. Spencer smiled gently and nodded at Prentiss. 

“You’re probably right,” Spencer agreed. “I should head in though. She’s going to have an aneurysm if I don’t. We would still be rid of a nuisance, but where would we get the information we need then?” Spencer asked Prentiss slyly. She snickered and smiled at him. 

“Go on.” she said as she turned to leave. Spencer then turned around and gripped the handle of the door. He was just facing the literal bitch of hell. No big deal. 

○●♡●○ 

You stretched painfully against the wall as you woke up from an impromptu nap. It had only been a couple of hours, and you felt exhausted even after sleeping for as long as you had. 

Derek was still awake, rubbing his face tiredly. He turned his head and looked towards you, sighing gently. 

"You're awake?" He asks. "I thought you'd be out for the rest of the day." Derek shifted his position, yawning afterwards. 

"I guess I'm more restless than usual." A soft throbbing pain began to show itself as you stretched your legs. You clutched at your stomach, sighing softly. "Maybe it's the nightmares." 

"Already?" Derek asked, moving as close to you as the restraints would allow him. "I don't usually get nightmares after cases until a couple days later." 

"Well this unfortunately isn't a case. And he's been my abuser before. I see him sometimes. When I close my eyes? And I can feel his hands on my body all the time…" you sigh and run a hand through your hair. 

"I guess it's just the effects from the trauma." 

"Kid… you know you don't deserve this. Peter is-" 

Just as Derek began to try and reassure you, you heard the rumble of gravel under tires again. You felt your heart immediately pick up and start pounding in your chest. Derek panicked and held up his hands to you. 

"It's gonna be okay, alright pretty girl? It's gonna be alright. You're gonna be fine." He began, trying to encourage you to calm down. 

You wrapped your arms around your knees and began to breathe heavily. In for four, hold for 7, out for 8. That's what you tried to remember. But once you already began panicking, you were too far gone to get your breathing under control. 

The jingle of keys was the second trigger that caused your heart to jump in your chest. Derek looked at you yearningly, wishing he could hold you to calm your nerves. 

The door opened not too long afterwards, revealing the nightmare behind it. Peter stormed in and growled, launching himself towards you and gripping at your shirt. 

"Did you mean it?" He hissed, yanking you forward harshly. You gasp and take a deep breath, confused at what he was asking. You took a brave look into his eyes and saw how blown up his pupils were. There was barely any green left in his eyes. 

"M-mean w-wh-what-?" You stuttered, gasping for breath at how tightly he held your shirt collar. You knew what he was asking, but annoying him made him mad, which made his decision making worse. 

Peter yanked harder on your collar, grabbing your neck with his other hand. He picked you up and tugged at your chains. His nails dug into your soft skin, choking you. 

"What the fuck do you think? Don't play coy with me, bitch!" Peter spat, gripping your neck even harder. You gasp and scramble to scratch his hand away. 

"Y-yes-!" You manage to cough out. Peter then dropped you, causing a sharp, stabbing pain to shear through a portion of the skin on your shin. 

"Fine. You'll get your end of the bargain afterwards-" Peter began. 

"No." You growl, your hands forming fists that gradually grew in their strength. 

"No what? I keep promises-" 

"No you fucking don't. Let him go. Only then will I give into you." You demand, your nostrils flaring at the audacity he had to try and double cross you. 

Peter sneered and grumbled, letting out a frustrated grunt. He then, in a fit of rage, pulled the ring of keys from the hook and yanked Derek's hands forward. 

"Hold still, or I'll just cut your damn hands off." Peter scolded, lifting Derek's fist from the shackle once it was unlocked. Then he quickly did the other. Derek was then allowed to stand, but at a limp due to his wound. 

Peter sighed and growled at Derek. "Just go, before I change my fucking mind. Try to come back here and she'll be dead within the hour." Peter threatened, pointing a finger at Derek. 

You look past Peter and give Derek an encouraging look. You hoped he'd get the message. You would unfortunately have to sacrifice your sanity for his freedom, but that would be okay. 

Derek nodded to you before he took off out the cellar door as fast as his wounded leg would carry him. He could hear Peter’s evil laugh as he ran, causing a pang of regret and guilt to enter his chest. He debated on going back. To save you. But then he remembered that he hadn't gotten enough sleep the past week, let alone the nutrition he usually had. His legs were already screaming at him for running after not being on his feet for 5-6 days. He couldn't really tell due to Peter not bringing them food for a few days. 

Derek felt terrible. He knew Spencer would hate him for this, but he wasn't physically able to fight him off right now. Nor was he physically capable of carrying you. So instead, like a lowly coward, he ran. 

He ran, and he ran, and he ran till he could find a road. It wasn't terribly busy, but they were in rural West Virginia. Somebody had to help him. He limped towards the side, and waved towards in-coming cars. 

He was unsuccessful the first few times, one even flipped him off. But then thankfully, a car stopped. It was black, but an old model Impala. A man got out of it, rushing over to Morgan. 

"What the hell happened? How can I help?" The man asked. 

"I-I just need a ride to the n-nearest police station. I'm an FBI agent. Can you do that for me, man?" Derek asks, almost pleadingly. 

The man widens his eyes and nods, gesturing for Morgan to get into his car. "Yeah, Yeah, my god. You also need a doctor. You want me to call one for you?" The man asked. Derek shook his head rapidly. 

"No… no I just need to contact my team, please." Morgan begged, losing breath as he went. 

The man nodded towards him and he led Morgan back to his car, speeding him off towards the nearest police station. Morgan just hoped he wasn't going to be too late when they got there. 

He hoped that you weren't going to have irreparable damage when they found you. He hoped they wouldn't lose you and you have to deal with him and his abuse for the rest of your life. He just hoped he'd find you again on time. But the clock was ticking. And you didn't have much time. 

○●♡●○ 

Spencer walked into the interrogation room, looking down at the case file like it was much more interesting than the woman who sat in front of him. 

"Finally! Someone in this godforsaken place listened to me! What the hell do you all want? I don't know where my daughter is, and even if I did I wouldn't tell you." Margaret, or otherwise known as your mother, insisted. Spencer had to fight the smirk that wanted to play on his lips. 

"You don't? Well you see, based on the way you immediately brought up your daughter, despite not knowing my first question shows some guilt in your subconscious that tells me there's something you aren't telling us." Spencer expressed, raising an eyebrow at her. He dug two fingers into his palm, hoping that would be enough to prevent him from going off on this woman. 

Margaret just gasped in offence, giving Spencer an open mouthed look that wouldn't catch flies even if she put honey in it. "How DARE you examine me like some common criminal?!! Do you even know who I am? My husband and I can destroy everything you love with just a few phone calls!" She screeched, slamming the table. Talk about over reaction. 

"Do you mean how you ruined everything (Y/N) loved over the course of 18 years? Or how you sold her to the highest bidder at 18 years old, and then sold her location to said bidder when it was clear he had ill intent for her?" Spencer questioned, his nose scrunching up as his anger bubbled. 

Margaret stared back at Spencer in shock, unable to formulate a response at first. "I-I did not sell my daughter-" 

"Really? Then how do you explain the transaction of 10,000 dollars into you and your husband's shared bank account the day before Peter Calvin proposed to your daughter the first time? How do you explain the influx of 5,672 dollars into your account three months ago? Around the time you saw your daughter again?" Spencer questioned, slamming the bank receipts onto the table. 

Margaret scrambled to find an answer, making suggestive noises but without any words. "M-my husband and I closed a deal with a client for 5,672 dollars. This has nothing to do with our whore of a daughter." 

"Mrs. Grant, our technical analyst can search deep into your financial records and pull out the name of who the sender of that money was. If that sender so happens to be Peter Calvin, I can hold you accountable for the selling of another human being, which as you know is illegal in all forms." Spencer grunted, leaning forward. 

Margaret's face was pure shock for a few moments, before she shifted and her face grew back to it's evil smirk. "Hm, as if. She's my daughter. She was and is my property. She will marry whom I choose. And I chose Peter. I will have the family line continue with success, not some teachers aid." Margaret quips, smirking at Spencer to assure him she meant him. 

Spencer blew a hot rush of air out of his nose. He stood up straight, showing his height. And then he ran a hand down his cardigan. "Right, you wouldn't want your daughter to marry a genius with an IQ of 187, a doctor with three PhD's and three BA's respectively, that works with the FBI to catch the most wanted killers and terrorists. You wouldn't want her to marry a man who can read 20,000 words per minute but can als9 see straight through your bullshit and call you out on it. You don't want her to marry a man who would encourage her to follow her damn dreams and cut all ties with her abusive mother. She is not your property. She is your blood yet you treat her like trash!" Spencer's voice raised as his anger rose. He pointed at Margaret's chest accusingly, his eyes full of anger. "I feel sorry for your own mother to have to see what you've become. You could've been there for her when she needed you the most. You could've had the late night stories about boys she was interested in, about her favorite subjects, about what was currently happening in her life. But you decided instead to be a tyrant. And you wonder why she ran away." Spencer snapped, hearing the door open behind him. He immediately held up a hand and a finger, as if to say 'one moment'. 

"You may have power, but so do I. With only a few phone calls, I can arrest both you and your husband for child endangerment, child abuse, slavery, fraud, and money laundering. I could ruin you." Spencer hissed, leaning forward and getting into Margaret's face. 

"Don't test me." 

Spencer then leaned back and left the room as calmly as he could, the steam coming out of his ears almost phasing into existence. 

Spencer left the room and realized he was so angry he didn't even know who had come to the door. All he had been focused on was defending you to the woman who had sold you and abandoned you. If he never got to see you again, he was at least glad he could do that. 

Spencer sighed, running a hand through his hair. JJ walked up and put a hand on his shoulder. He jumped a bit and turned his head, relaxing when he saw who it was. He rubbed his face annoyedly, grunting tiredly. 

"So… that was pretty heated." JJ finally spoke. 

Spencer groaned and looked up for a moment, his hands falling back to his sides. "Yeah." He says matter of factly. 

JJ looks away for a moment, as if trying to find the right words to not offend him. "It was pretty badass too for you to defend (Y/N) like that. If Will ever did that for me, and we weren't married, I'd propose to him right then." JJ laughed, smiling up at a now surprised Spencer. 

"W-what?" He asked, giving JJ a confused look. 

"Yeah, pretty cool Spence. It's pretty clear you like her now though. Hotch isn't too happy you interviewed her, but hey, we got a clear verdict and enough evidence to charge her at a trial. Once we get that info (Y/N)'s brother gave you to Garcia, we'll be that much closer to finding her." JJ encouraged, putting a frown on Spencer’s face. 

Spencer let out a tired sigh, his light brown eyes filling with sadness. JJ sighed and rubbed his back. "Spence… we're gonna find her. Soon. And then you can ride in there and save her. She'll be able to live without real fear." JJ promised, nodding to Spencer before beginning to walk off. 

Spencer watched as she did, sighing as he looked down at his phone. He wished he had a photo of you other than the one you had for work. One of you actually smiling. 

He pulled up said picture though, hoping seeing you, even a serious one, would bring up his mood. It wasn't a few moments after though, that the screen changed to a nearby number. Spencer usually never answered numbers like this, but something compelled him to this time. 

When he hit the answer button, he had no chance to even introduce himself. 

"Spencer Reid, Right? The guy my best friend had over? What the fuck?! I just had to find out on the damn TV that she's fucking missing?! Who's got her? Peter?! Tell me you muttonhead! You got her taken, you son-of-a-bitch-!" 

Spencer held the phone away from his ear and let the angry man rant. From what he managed to hear, he could tell it was your roommate, Gabriel. Spencer forgot to update him. But either way, he wouldn't have been allowed to know until the news covered the story. 

"A-are you done?" Spencer asked after he only heard breathing on the other end. 

"Yes I am, motherfucker-" 

"Yes, yes, I get I'm an asshole, alright? Just… know that it wasn't my fault." Spencer attempted. 

"Wasn't your fault my ass-" 

"Just listen, okay? We're currently working our asses off to find her. I already tell myself every day that if I had just stayed a little later, If I had walked her home instead, she would have me there with her. Or that if Morgan and I both went with her she wouldn't have been taken at all. I know I deserve the fault, but just blaming me won't bring her back, okay? I'll let you know of any updates. Promise." Spencer rants back to the short man. It was quiet for a few moments before he responded. 

"...Fine. I know she likes you for some reason. Just find her, okay? I trusted you. Don't prove me wrong." Gabriel answered, before he quickly hung up, giving Spencer no time to respond. 

Spencer raised an eyebrow and looked down at the screen, shaking his head and putting his phone away. Just as he did, Hotch hurried down the stairs and put the phone on speaker. 

"What's going on Hotch?" Spencer asked urgently. 

"Morgan’s calling us from a police line."


	22. Chapter 22

Spencer widened his eyes and rushed to the receiver, standing beside Hotch as the call was put on speaker. 

"Morgan-! Morgan, w-where are you?!" He asked hastily, his hands finding the edge of the table and gripping harshly. 

"Nngh… I… I think Charleston? The concussion I got from his damn gun isn't helping my vision much. I know we're in West Virginia. I got somebody to send Garcia some coordinates." Morgan explained in a tired voice. 

Spencer felt a heavy and relieving sigh leave his chest. Morgan managed to get free. That meant they had a good fighting chance to find you. 

Hotch nodded and began to gesture to JJ to talk to Garcia. "Thanks Morgan. Keep in touch and get some help-"

"Hotch, that isn't it. She… I wasn't able to get out on my own. She… she made a deal for my freedom. She said she'd… consent." Morgan revealed, sending a shiver of shock running down his spine. 

Spencer’s eyes widened at Morgan’s reveal, feeling his heart break in his chest for you. If he wasn’t already showing it on the outside, he was grieving for you and the pain you had to go through.

"...what?" He asked. 

"You know what I mean, Reid. He already raped her once. Right in front of me and I couldn't do a damn thing about it. Just… just get here dammit. She doesn't have too much longer."

Hotch sighed. "Alright. We're on our way now. Just get some help for those injuries. We're unfortunately going to need you as a guide." 

Spencer was still in shock, his anger growing slightly as he made the promise to kill Peter if he got the chance. He had done the worst thing he could do to you. And Spencer was pissed. 

"Got it Hotch." Morgan replied, hanging up shortly after. 

"Wait!" 

Spencer looked up at the stairs, still seething from what he’d learned of your experience, and saw a frantic Garcia rushing down the stairs. "Wait! Did-Did he already hang up?" She asked. 

Prentiss nodded. Garcia whined and groaned. "Damn it. At least he's okay. I got the coordinates. It does in fact center in on the Charleston police station." Garcia informed. 

Spencer looked down, took a deep breath, and began to think, the gears moving in his head. Rossi looked up and raised an eyebrow. 

"I know that look. What you got, Reid?" He asked. 

Spencer bit his lip for a moment before he quickly opened his satchel bag. "Garcia, did you run those properties? Everything Peter’s ever purchased?" 

Garcia raised an eyebrow. "Well, yeah. But nothing stands out." 

"Well, narrow that down to properties bought in the last 5-6 months and near the Charleston area." Spencer urged. 

Garcia's eyes widened and she smiled at Spencer. "Goody gumdrops, this is why we call you the resident genius, g-man." She says, hurrying back up the stairs. "I'll call you guys with the info on the jet. Just get down there and find our other genius." Garcia insisted. 

Hotch nodded. "Right. Wheels up in ten. We need to get down there and fast. Like Morgan said, (Y/N) may not have much time before he relocates her. Or worse." 

At Hotch's final statement, the team dispersed to get their go-bags and gear to get on the jet. Each of the members had a determined look on their face. Spencer would be lying if he said that didn't comfort him even just a bit. 

Spencer hurried towards his desk and slung the strap of his go bag across his shoulder, rushing towards the jet before anyone else. But who could blame him? 

The rest of the team joined him one by one on the jet, each giving him their version of a look of pity. But Spencer wasn't paying attention, all he was doing, was trying to figure out how they planned to find you. 

"Hey…" Spencer heard. 

"Hey." He said quickly, never looking up from the seemingly interesting wood pattern of the table in front of him. 

"We're here if you need anything." JJ smiled down at Spencer as the plane began to take off. Spencer, still not looking up, just nodded and mumbled an incoherent form of 'yeah' 

JJ frowned, but didn't push it, taking her seat quickly. Prentiss sat a seat ahead of him, Rossi and Hotch being a few seats away across the walkway. 

Spencer never broke his concentration on the table, his mind wandering to each and every possible outcome for this. He didn't want to lose you. He'd already lost too many people. He couldn't lose you too. 

A single tear fell from his eye, encouraging him to close his eyes tiredly. He sighed gently, rubbing his thighs. 

Then, the thud of a chess set case echoed in front of him, jolting him from his concentration. Spencer quickly wiped away the tear, blinking a few times as he looked up to see who had dropped the set. 

Rossi leaned against the seat in front of Spencer and gestured towards it. "Mind if I join you?" He asked. 

Spencer took a moment before he nodded silently, trying to re-focus on reality. Rossi took the seat in front of Spencer and opened up the set, setting up the pieces with white in front of himself and black in front of Spencer. 

"You know, we can all see right through you." Rossi spoke casually, continuing his set up. 

"What do you mean?" Spencer asked. Rossi hummed for a moment, finishing up his set up. 

"We can all see how much you care for her. It's almost like you like her or something." Rossi teased gently, flashing a knowing look and a smirk at Spencer. 

"T-there was never an attempt to deceive you all, I-I do like her." Spencer answered, fumbling with the king piece he had subconsciously grabbed. 

"Oh?" Rossi replied, pausing for a moment. "You didn't say anything." 

"T-that's because statistically only 60% of all relationships end up working out. Especially those that start with very little time in the beginning to get to know each other. And… adding the fact that I am socially awkward, unable to flirt properly like Morgan has tried to teach me, and that I am increasing in age, the probability of anything working out between her and me are slim. I didn't want to rush into anything without being sure." Spencer rambled, gesturing with his hands as he nervously went through all of what he thought were aspects of why he wasn't made for you. 

Rossi raised an eyebrow as he took his first move. "Kid, you always listen to those statistics but never your heart. That's your problem. You know," Rossi began, beginning to talk in his story-telling tone. Spencer took his turn, trying to focus on both the conversation and the game. It was a little tough. 

"My second wife, she always told me that I worked too much. Wrote too much and never spent that much time with her. Though my heart kept saying I wanted to. I never listened. And now here I am, three wives down and a dozen books added to my collection. Don't be me, Kid. When we find her, you're gonna run to her, and hold her in your arms again. If that feels right, holding her like that, she's the one." Rossi encouraged, taking a second move. 

Spencer’s eyes wandered over the board before quickly taking his next move and tanking three of Rossi's pawns. Rossi widened his eyes and nodded to Spencer, impressed. 

"I… I know I want to be with her Rossi. But I also know that, after traumatic events, it takes 6 months or more for a victim to recover and get back into their daily routines. Let alone start anything new. I don't want to add to her pain, or start our potential relationship on her thinking I'm using her. Or her just using me for comfort and then leaving me after she's better." Spencer debated, watching as Rossi took another turn. 

Spencer then spoke up. "Check." 

Rossi raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "Reid, do you know her to be that type of person? To use someone for her own benefit?" He asked, taking his next move. 

"No…" he replied, taking his as well. 

"Then should you be worried about her doing so?" 

"No…" Spencer sighed, shaking his head as he watched Rossi take another turn. 

"Then don't worry about it. Just trust your gut. And follow your heart before it betrays you." Rossi says, taking his hand off of his piece. 

Spencer then moved his, and called out. "Checkmate." 

Rossi chuckled. "Well, you are the undefeated champion of the BAU. I should've expected that." He laughed. Spencer’s lips curled into a gentle smile. 

"You could do it, you just have to focus on the logic." Spencer says, smiling at Rossi. 

"Eh, who needs logic when you've got aged wine and some good pasta? Solves every problem." Rossi teased, beginning to get up. 

"Rossi, a-actually…" Spencer began. 

Rossi turned his head, facing Spencer and encouraging him to continue. 

Spencer sighed. "Would you mind playing one more round? It… it's helping me clear my head." 

Rossi smiled and nodded. "Sure. I haven't gotten my butt kicked enough yet today." 

Spencer chuckled gently, and helped Rossi begin another game. He was still worried about you, but you were going to be okay. He… had to trust his heart. 

○●♡●○ 

You bit your lip as he finished, exhaling long and hard. He sounded satisfied. You knew he was. You hadn't fought him. You hadn't moaned either. Sure, you still felt the effect of what he was doing to you, but the horror and the pain overwhelmed the faint pleasure you had felt. 

Peter pulled himself from you and fastened his pants back, leaving you against the wall. "That was amazing… better than the first time. Such a slut for me." He slurs, causing a painful shiver to run down your spine towards your bruised core. 

You looked towards the wall, refusing to look at him or let him see you cry. He didn't deserve to. Nor would he get the pleasure. 

"Oh come on, you liked it." He insisted, standing up and rebuttoning his pants. 

You still refuse to reply, your bottom lip quivering softly. Peter rolled his eyes and kicked your shin, causing you to cry out in sudden pain. 

"Such a weak thing. Big ol' FBI agent? Pathetic." Peter snarled as he pulled a gun from his back pocket. You looked up at him, fearful of your life. 

"W-what… what are you going to do with that?" You ask, trying to mask your fear. 

"What do you think, bitch? I had to let that bastard go so I could get you to listen. Now, I gotta go kill him so nobody ever finds you. Just relax, I'll be back for round two." Peter grinned, not missing the crack in your voice or the sob that came from your throat. 

The cellar door slammed, and you curled up your weakening body. You then began to silently cry. All of this would soon be for nothing if Morgan didn't get somewhere else in time. You felt hopeless and alone. Not even thinking of the dance you had invited Spencer to was able to calm you. All you could do was cry, and hope to whatever God there was that you'd make it to see the other side. 

○●♡●○ 

Morgan sighed and winced as the medic bandaged his leg properly. "Watch it man, I still need that leg to find my friend." He hissed. The medic nodded his apologies and continued his first aid. 

It wasn't long after that the doors of the police station opened, and in walked his entire team. Hotch and Reid were the first ones to approach Morgan. 

"Hey… how're you feeling?" Hotch asked. 

"Eh… like I got hit by a semi truck. Twice. But I'll live. What do you all got?" 

"Garcia and I narrowed down Peter's properties and found he purchased a large portion of land nearby in the last 5-6 months. He also had work done on it to build a cellar." Spencer explained. 

"That's gotta be where he held us. I was only able to see the way we got there from the car. Couldn't tell you the directions to the place though. I can take you all back to the cellar though. If I retrace my steps." Morgan assured, adjusting his position. The medic continued to fuss over Morgan, trying to keep him still so that they could work. 

"Morgan, if you can't walk or are unable to help us, you'll be the best help here getting as much rest as you can-" Hotch began. 

"I ain't a vegetable Hotch! If I can get up and I can walk, I'm gonna go with you. I want to help you all get justice served to this bastard on a silver fucking plate." Derek seethed, his hands forming fists at his sides. 

Hotch sighed and nodded, knowing it would be of no use to argue with Morgan now. "Alright, just let us know if you need to take a break." He assures before he begins getting the police and the SWAT team ready to search the woods. 

Spencer began to turn to do the same, before Morgan grabbed his hand, pulling him back. Spencer raised an eyebrow, a bit confused by the action. 

"Reid… kid… I gotta warn you… she's not in the best mental state. She's gonna try and get away from you at first. She's...not going to look her best is what I'm saying." Derek sighed, letting his hand fall. 

Spencer nodded. "Of course. I-I'll try and calm her before I approach her. Promise." He says, flashing Morgan a gentle smile. 

"And… one more thing…" Spencer added, sighing gently. Morgan looked up at the younger man, encouraging him to continue. 

"Is she… does she blame me at all? Is she injured fatally? Anything I need to know?" He asked, beginning to ramble his worries. 

"Pretty boy… calm down for a minute. No, she doesn't blame you. She's gonna be hurt, but not that bad. She's sick though. Probably an infection causing her fever." Morgan answered, rubbing Spencer’s lower arm. 

Spencer sighed in relief and closed his eyes. "Thank you." 

"'Course. Now come on, let's go find her and bring that asshole to Justice." Morgan enthused, slowly rising to his feet and beginning to limp towards the exit. 

○●♡●○ 

"Are you sure it's nearby, Morgan?" Hotch asked, aiding Morgan in walking through the woods. Spencer was ahead of them, looking for anything that resembled a cellar door that Morgan had described. 

"Yes, I recognize the gravel trail. There was a ton of it, that's how we knew he was coming. The rumble of the gravel." Derek insisted, wincing as he put all of his weight on his bad foot for a moment to climb up the slight hill. 

Spencer urgently looked to and fro for any sign of a cellar or even some brush that looked out of place. He heard the feet of the search dogs behind them, breaking his concentration for a few moments. 

Spencer shook his head and sighed, wishing he had better navigation skills. Then, he spotted an area of gravel that began to collect together. He furrowed his eyebrows for a moment before he slowly advanced towards the northside of the rock that prevented him from seeing the rest of the gravel. The team thankfully followed behind him, preventing him from having to instruct them on where he was going. He pulled out his gun slowly and aimed it in front of him as he advanced forward. 

It took him a few minutes, as the rock had turned into a large hill that was just on an incline. But as soon as he reached the bottom, he saw the wooden door. He rushed over to the door, trying the handle only to find it locked. 

The team met up with him and saw his struggle. "Is it locked?" Hotch asked. 

"Yes, just… Hotch?" He asked, looking to his boss pleadingly. He was so close, so damn close. One door couldn't be the dividing force. He wasn't going to lose you over a damn locked door. 

Hotch sighed and rolled up his sleeves, nodding to Spencer. "Move out of the way, Reid." He says. Spencer does so, and not a minute later Hotch kicks the door in and the cellar is soon filled with the team. 

"FBI!" Hotch called. 

You shrieked and began to shrink into the corner as much as you could, pulling on your chains as they came in. "P-please! P-please don't do it again! I-I don't want it! I don't want to, please!" You beg while sobbing, holding up two hands in front of your face to prevent being hit. It broke Spencer’s heart to see you so terrified. 

Hotch shared a glance with Spencer, earning a gesture from Spencer that meant 'wait'. 

Spencer then slowly approached you, not even trying to keep his tears from falling. "Hey… I'm not going to hurt you, (Y/N/N). Promise." 

You slowly moved your hands, shivering in fear. Spencer finally reached you and gently touched your hands with his warm ones, finding yours extremely cold. "See? You don't have to be afraid of me." He tightened his hold on your hands, rubbing his thumbs against your cold fingers. "Let's get you out of here, okay? I'm a doctor, you can trust me." He looked into your eyes with hope that you would see the truth in them. And he thinks you did. 

You bite your lip and finally give him a good look. You saw his tear-stained face and his worried eyes, feeling a deep realization fill your body. Your mind's haze finally began to lift, and you recognized him again. You felt your eyes fill with tears, blurring your vision. You then immediately pulled him closer to you, albeit slowly. You wrapped your arms around him tightly, as much as the chains would allow. 

"S-spence… y-you found me…" you whisper hoarsely, trying not to sob. Spencer bit his lip and smiled happily, holding you close to his chest. He held a hand to your back and cradled your head with the other. 

"Yeah… I did…" he whispered. He turned his head towards Hotch and gestured towards your shackles. He mouthed the word 'keys' before he turned back to you. Hotch nodded, and quickly found the keys on the hook. 

Morgan took the keys from Hotch and came towards Reid and you. 

You turned your head and let out a relieved gasp and sob as you see Morgan approach you, still holding onto Spencer as you did. 

"Y-you're alive…" you whispered, smiling gently. He nodded, taking the key and unlocking both of your shackles. 

"I am, kid." He says. 

Once you felt your heart stop pounding, you also felt an exhaustion wash over you. You slowly close your eyes, laying in Spencer’s arms as you fell into a healing sleep. 

Spencer smiled down at you, the smile quickly fading as he saw the numerous injuries that littered your body. He adjusted your form and began to carry you bridal style. Your head immediately leaned towards his chest, making his heart swell for a few moments. You were extremely warm to the touch other than your fingers and feet. He knew he'd have to get you to a hospital for medical attention quickly. 

But for right now, you were safe. Even if Peter was still out there. But you were safe. That was all that mattered to him.


	23. Chapter 23

Spencer’s leg bounced as he waited in the waiting room. They had managed to transfer you from one hospital in West Virginia to one nar Quantico. Still didn't mean you had woken up yet. As a matter of fact, you hadn't. 

You had been asleep for 7 days, 15 hours, and 10 minutes. And 45 seconds, but he isn't counting. He swears. 

He'd been at your side for most of the first few days, until they said they needed to move her. That she was fit to fly to a hospital closer to home. It was then that the team made him go home and rest. He hadn't gotten a wink of sleep, but he did get other things done. Like eating and showering. He wasn't an idiot. 

The team had left flowers for you, among a few other things from Garcia. They were all on edge to see if you would even wake up. 

You had developed a nasty genital infection along with massive head trauma. The fever was a warning of the infection spreading to other parts of your body. The doctors say you're making great progress. But time will only tell if you'll wake up. They hadn't medically declared it a coma as of yet, but they might as well have. 

In Spencer's hands was the book he had read from to you when you had first stayed at his place. The one filled with Edgar Allen Poe's poems. He hadn't been able to have it before, since you had been in a hospital out of state. But now he could. Your mother had tried to visit, but Spencer put an end to that one very quickly. After she had sold your location to Peter, Spencer was much more wary of the woman and her motives. Like hell he was going to let her sell her daughter for the third time to that asshole. 

But now, he was nervous. Why was he nervous? He had seen you asleep for an entire week and never was nervous. Perhaps it was the growing realization that if you stayed asleep much longer the doctors would consider it a coma, and reduce the chances of you surviving. 

Spencer shivered, clutching his arms. Even the thought of losing you hurt him. Especially after all they went through to find you. He couldn't find the strength in him to even consider having to bury you. 

Spencer rubbed his face frantically and took a deep breath, running his hands through his hair. He could do this. You were going to be okay. 

A sudden hand on Spencer’s shoulder caused him to practically fall out of his chair with a shriek. He held up his hands and jumped from the seat. When he turned, he felt extremely embarrassed to be facing Morgan. 

Morgan chuckles softly, leaning on the crutches he had been given. Apparently with the adrenaline rush, Morgan hadn't felt it. But he tore a few tendons that had already been weakened from the gunshot to the thigh. So he was on crutches for a few weeks. 

"Scared, Pretty boy? I ain't gonna hurt you." He teased, flashing one of his signature smiles. Spencer eased up and smiled back, clutching the book in his hands he had barely caught when Morgan had scared him. 

"No you just kinda… caught me off guard." Spencer admits. "How is your wound? Have you been changing the bandages often? Taking your meds?" He asked, quickly shifting the conversation to Morgan. Unfortunately, he caught this. 

"Yes I have Reid, but don't think we're just gonna shift on over to me. This conversation is about you, man." Derek insists, poking Spencer’s chest. 

Spencer let out a tired sigh. He should've seen this outcome, especially since he knew Morgan so well. But he was so preoccupied with you that he hadn't. 

"I'm just worried about her, Morgan. She hasn't woken up in over a week. If she doesn't in the next 24 hours she'll be declared a coma patient. Then the likelihood of her waking up is even slimmer, based on statistics." Spencer ranted, beginning to pace in the small space he had in front of Morgan. 

Morgan couldn't help but chuckle slightly. "Reid, man, have you known (Y/N) to be the type to give up? To take the easy route?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. Spencer narrows his eyes slightly in confusion before he attempts to answer. 

"No… in fact when you challenged her to profile you the day we met she didn't hesitate. Very brave, something I admire in her." He says, murmuring the last part. Derek smirked knowingly, soon after continuing to emphasize his point. 

"See? And she was the first one to take on the female unsub because she knew that there was a hatred for men. She's smart, kid. She's courageous. And she's gonna make it out of this. You ain't ever doubted her before. Don't doubt her now." He encourages, nudging Spencer’s shoulder with his hand. 

Spencer smiled back, looking down as he remembered each and every one of your exploits. You were smart, brave, courageous. And so much more. You would make it out of this. He just knew it. 

"Whatcha got there, kid?" Derek asked. Spencer looked up, thoroughly jumbled from his daydream. He grips the book and looks at it, a smile coming across his face. 

"It's a book of poems by Edgar Allen Poe, (Y/N) and I like them." He says, giving Morgan a smile. "I plan on reading her another poem from it." 

Morgan playfully rolled his eyes. "Only you would bring a book, Reid." He playfully teased. "Of course she's into books. Anyone you like has to." 

"Not everyone. There was this one girl when I was in highschool that I liked, she preferred watching movies to reading the books. Granted, She was much older than me, so nothing ever came from that." Spencer pointed out. Derek raised his hands and chuckled. 

"Alright, I was wrong, I yield." He teased back, gripping the crutches again. 

"You going to see her soon?" Derek asked. 

"Yeah, I've been here a few hours. They haven't called me in yet. Apparently visiting hours aren't going to start till 10." Spencer grumbled. 

"Kid, it's 10:58. They should've called you back by now." Derek pointed out. 

"(L/N). Anyone here for (Y/N) (L/N)?" A nurse asked, walking into the waiting room. Spencer’s ears practically perked up as he turned and began to approach the nurse enthusiastically. 

"Hi, uh, yes I'm here to see her." He says, feeling immediately ridiculous at his tone. Derek clobbered over and nodded to the nurse. 

"I'll be visiting too." He says. The nurse makes a few humming sounds before looking back up at them. 

"Alright, here are your visitor stickers, and I'll take you to her room. Follow me." The nurse encouraged, before she began to exit the room. Spencer and Derek, of course obviously followed. 

Spencer placed his sticker on hastily, sighing gently to himself as he followed the nurse in front of them. The nervous feeling in his chest began to grow as he got closer to you. Why was he so nervous?

He began playing with the edge of his cardigan, rolling a small string between his fingers. Derek slowly approached behind them, grumbling to himself about how inconvenient the crutches were. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they found your room. 309, Spencer read on the plaque outside. 

"Here she is. But don't expect anything. She hasn't woken up at all since she's been here." The nurse warned before she left the room with her clipboard. 

Spencer looked into the hospital room, hearing the distant sounds of beeping of other machines. He slowly advanced towards your figure that was littered with wires. You had a nasal cannula helping feed oxygen into your lungs and an IV in your left arm. A pulse ox reader was placed on your right forefinger, wired to a nearby monitor. Spencer could still see the bruising and the beginnings of injuries under your hospital gown. It broke his heart. He gripped the book tightly, afraid he would snap it in half. 

"Kid, remember what I said." Derek encouraged, hauling himself over to the chair in the far corner and taking a seat. Spencer found one next to your bedside and immediately took your hand in his. He didn't care where it had been, or who had touched it at this point. He just needed to feel the comforting warmth of your hand. 

He stared at you intently, his eyes never leaving your form. Derek knew better than to start conversation with him, and Spencer was glad he didn't. You were the most important thing to him in that moment. 

Minutes passed, although they felt like lifetimes. Spencer’s mind began to wander on it's own, imagining a life with you. Imagining what you'd look like with sex hair. How you'd look at him when you woke up. How beautiful and breathtaking you'd look on your wedding day. He brought a tear to his own eye and let his head fall against the hospital bed. He gripped your hand a bit tighter, careful of your IV. 

After a few minutes, he leaned back up, wiping away the tears that he'd shed. He pulled the book from under his arm where he had placed it, and opened it up to one of the poems he had bookmarked. 

He sniffled softly before he cleared his throat, holding the book open with one hand. He squeezed your hand once more before he began to read. 

"This is a poem called Anabel Lee, written in 1849 by Edgar Allen Poe." Spencer began, looking down at the page at the words that seemed to move like waves. 

"It was many and many a year ago, in a kingdom by the sea, that a maiden there lived whom you may know by the name of Anabel Lee." Spencer read, swallowing sobs as they threatened to appear. 

"In this maiden she lived with no other thought than to love, and be loved by me. I was a child and she was a child in this kingdom by the sea. But we loved with a love that was more than love, I and my Anabel Lee." Spencer’s voice was still going strong, but he could feel the tears brimming behind his eyes. It was the poem. Yeah, it was definitely the poem. 

"With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven coveted her and me. And this was the reason that long ago in this kingdom by the sea, a wind blew out of a cloud, chilling my beautiful Anabel Lee." He sniffled as his eyes moved dreadfully slow down the page. His vision began to grow blurry as he blinked a few tears away. 

"So that her highborn kinsmen came and bore her away from me to shut her up in a sepulcher in this kingdom by the sea." No, this wasn't just the poem, he thought. He loved you. He needed you. Just as he needed his mother. He had never needed someone to function before you. Before he had met you, he could function just fine. But now, if someone were to take you away from him, he feared he'd never be able to do his job again. Let alone take care of himself. 

"The Angels, now half so happy in heaven when envying her and me. Yes, that was the reason, as all men know in this kingdome by the sea, that the wind came out of cloud by night, chilling and killing my Anabel Lee." Spencer’s voice began to crack as he read the last few lines, swallowing a sob that desperately wanted to interrupt. But he was determined to continue reading. 

Unbeknownst to him, you slowly opened your eyes, having been able to hear his voice since he began reading. You looked at him with lidded eyes, smiling gently. Derek widened his eyes and smiled at you, glad to see you awake and okay. 

"B-but our love it was stronger by far than the love of those who are older than we, of many far wiser than we. And neither the Angels in heaven above or the Deamons down under the sea, can disever my soul from the soul of the beautiful Anabel Lee." You felt Spencer squeeze your hand, his words bringing a tesr to your eye. You hadn't known truly how he felt towards you before. It was clear to you now. 

"For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams of the beautiful Anabel Lee. And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes of the beautiful Anabel Lee." Spencer read, his voice giving up on hiding his incoming sobs. He attempted to read on, but found his voice too broken to continue. His hand tightened around yours, squeezing you for dear life. 

"A-and so all the night tide, I lie down by the side of my darling, my darling, my life… and my br-bride…" Spencer read tearfully, his voice cracking more and more with each syllable. 

You swallow gently and squeeze his hand back, beginning to finish the poem for him. "I-In the sepulcher there by the sea…" you're voice croaked, gaining Spencer’s widened and surprised eyes. "In her tomb by the sounding sea." You finished, smiling at him as you did. 

Spencer’s eyes crinkled as he smiled gladly, pulling you close to him almost immediately. You bit your lip at the sudden contact, but slowly eased into it, hugging him back gently. 

"You… y-you're okay…" Spencer’s voice cracked as he whispered to you. You could still hear the sob in his throat as he spoke. You pulled back a bit and nodded. 

"Yeah… I guess I am. Somewhat. Is… is he…" you begin, a part of your chest beginning to tighten. Spencer immediately frowned again. 

"I'm sorry… we couldn't find him. We searched and put road blocks up but… he was gone. But don't worry, I won't let him take you again. I swear by it." Spencer insists, sniffling softly and his voice rumbling through his chest. 

You were thankful that his chest was there, and that his voice was so comforting as your whole body began to figuratively crumble. You curled up against yourself, inadvertently laying your head on Spencer’s shoulder. You cry harshly, causing your chest to heave and your heart monitor to amp up in the speed of the beeps. 

Spencer instantly held you, careful not to go any farther than the chest. He didn't want to hurt you, or further any trauma. He ran a hand through your hair while his other held you close. He whispered gently into your ear, hoping to calm you before any nurses burst in thinking something was wrong. 

"Shh...it's okay, I promise, we'll find him. When we find him, I will kill him. I promise you, (Y/N/N)." He assures, rocking you gently as you slowly moved into his lap again subconsciously. He didn't protest, and just helped you from the bed to him. 

You whimpered gently, but you felt comforted by the steady beating of his heart. Spencer looked at you with all of the love he had for you, wishing he could take away your pain. He was sure he could bear it better than you. You didn't deserve to have to have gone through this. No one does. 

"It's alright, I'll be here for you the whole time." He whispers to you, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You look up at him, you're (E/C) eyes glistening with tears. 

"Promise?" You ask in a soft voice. Spencer leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

"Promise." He assures. You nod and readjust in his arms, laying an arm across his chest. 

"S-spence?" 

Spencer looks down at your tired eyes and already yawning expression. He found himself smiling down at you, unable to hide it. "Yes?" He asks. 

"Am… am I your Anabel Lee?" You whisper to him, giggling as much as your body would let you. Spencer’s smile grew wider and he chuckled softly to you. 

"Yes, you are." Spencer answered. "Now sleep, sweetheart. I promise, I'll be here as long as you need me to be." 

You nod to him again, satisfied with the answer you received. He knew you were on multiple pain medications, so there was always the possibility of you not remembering what you had asked him. But that didn't matter to him at the moment. What did matter however, was that he got to watch you fall asleep in his arms, under his protection, where he could keep you from all harm. 

"Damn… you really do love her, don't you pretty boy?" Derek asked, finally speaking up for the first time since they'd arrived. Spencer turned his head and smiled at Derek. 

"I do. I mean… she's the only one to ever make me feel this way. Not even JJ or Lyla managed this." Spencer whispered in response. Derek raised his eyebrows. 

"Take care of her, alright? She's got broken pieces. I don't wanna see her get broken further." Derek warned. Spencer nodded insistantly. 

"I couldn't fathom hurting her, Morgan. I promise." Spencer assures, running a few fingers through your hair. 

"Good. Then I don't have to beat your ass. Though there definitely is one man I'd love to do that to. You have any leads yet, Reid?" Morgan asked. 

Spencer looked at Morgan with bewildered eyes. He blinked a few times before he replied. "You… you're already in on this?" He asked, his voice a little quieter. 

Morgan nodded. "I want that son of a bitch to pay. I want in." Morgan growled lowly. Spencer nodded back at him, looking towards your sleeping form. He'd get revenge for you. He swore he would. He had to. 

You deserved every little drop of justice and revenge against Peter. And Spencer was so damn willing to get it for you.


	24. Chapter 24

A week later, and you had finally been released from the hospital. Your infection had gotten to a manageable point where you could just take antibiotics and be cured of it in a few more weeks. Spencer had spent the entire time with you, never leaving your side. Except when you had to use the restroom. Obviously. 

"Spence… you gotta shower, seriously. I'm thankful, really, that you stayed with me all week. But you need a shower. Bad." You insist, hobbling slightly as you walk out of the hospital. 

You sigh softly to yourself, closing your eyes tightly for a moment as you waited for Spencer. Trying to hide the ever growing terror that filled your heart was getting increasingly harder to hide. But you didn't have time for therapy or to feel sorry for yourself. The BAU never made your case an active one despite two agents having gone missing and being taken. Which told you well enough that you weren't worth the time. Serial killers deserved more attention than you. 

"Hey, are you okay, (Y/N)?" 

The sudden touch to your shoulder plus the speech coming from Spencer pulled a shriek from your lungs. You jumped and looked toward Spencer terrified for a few agonizingly long moments. 

You took a deep breath and refocused your breathing, hoping to ease your racing heart back to it's slightly less annoying rhythm. 

"Y-yeah…" you murmur, shaking your head in an attempt to clear your mind. You also cleared your throat for good measure. "Yeah, I uh… I'm okay. Just a little… jumpy is all." 

Spencer’s frown deepens on his face, looking towards you sadly. Was this really the time for him to tell you how he felt? No, it really wasn't. You were healing. No, you are healing. You didn't need the confusion of a brand new romantic relationship to be added to your already overflowing plate. 

"Well… I'm here if you need me." Spencer assured, flashing a gentle smile towards you. You sighed and nodded back to hin. 

"Yeah, yeah," you exhaled, looking away from Spencer and not meeting his gaze. "Thanks." 

Spencer could feel the wedge you were unknowingly making grow between you. He hoped he could help you. After Hankel, he had hardly anyone. If he could make a difference in your PTSD, he would. He would try his damndest even if it killed him. 

"Well… I can at least get you back to the apartment. I'm sure Hotch will understand why I'm a few minutes late-" Spencer began, directing you towards the parking lot. He looked back at you and saw a flash of fear run over your (E/C) eyes as you stopped. 

"N-no. No, I need to get back to work. I don't have any vacation days saved up. I gotta go with you to work." You insisted, feeling a heavy stone of fear weigh on your chest. 

Spencer narrowed his eyes and looked over at you, stopping in his tracks. "(Y/N), Hotch gave you vacation days. You don't have to go back right now-" 

"No, Spencer. I'm going back. The team needs me. If I'm alone, Peter’s gonna have a better chance at finding me so-" the tears began falling before you could even realize. You feel your voice crack in your throat and all you knew to do was cover your mouth and try to smother your sobs. 

Spencer’s arms were around you before you could say, his hand rubbing your back while his other cradled your head. He didn't say anything, he just held you. You were thankful he hadn't. It was all you could do to keep your hand over your mouth and the other fisted in Spencer's days old cardigan. 

After what felt like forever, (reality was five minutes) Spencer pulled slightly away and tilted your head up to encourage you to look at him. "W-why don't we just get in the car for now? Figure things out on the way?" Spencer asked. Maybe you could still work. But he would put his foot down personally if you did anything other than desk work. 

You nodded subtly and swallowed what remained of your sobs. Spencer smiled gently and began guiding you towards the parking lot gently, not forcing you to venture any faster than you felt comfortable. 

You found yourself wandering with your eyes across the street, having become more vigilant and observant since your capture. Everything seemed normal. Couples were walking together hand in hand, some with kids. Some business men and women walked with their phones glued to their ears while some people were carrying groceries to their car. It wasn't suspicious at all. It should have calmed you. But it didn't. The only thing you found yourself able to be calm about was the fact that Spencer had his arms around you. That was what made you feel safe. 

Spencer looked towards you, watching you for a few moments. He watched your eyes wandering frantically across the parking lot and put two and two together. Just being in the parking lot scared you. Spencer couldn’t help but relate. The crunch of leaves had been his trigger for a few weeks after his kidnapping. Spencer squeezed you closer and rubbed your shoulder to get your attention. You turn your head back towards him, finding a relieving inhale enter you at the sight of his kind eyes once again looking into yours. “I’ll go pull up the car. You think you can stay here for a few seconds?” He asks. A jolt of regret strikes him as he sees the fear fill your pupils. But you don’t verbalize these fears. Instead you nodded silently. 

Spencer gave you a gentle grin before he went to go bring the car towards you. That way you didn’t have to step foot in the parking lot. He knew he was probably risking a few things, but at least you didn’t have to be fearful of the asphalt. 

You bit your lip anxiously, the hairs on your arms raising in false alarm. You knew you were safe. Your brain knew you were safe. But your heart was in overdrive. It had stolen the control console from your brain and was currently making you an emotional and anxious mess. A part of you didn’t want to go to work. It wanted to take your time to recover. But the rest of you was adamant on going. The case hadn’t been made priority. They were just lucky that no cases were deemed important enough for the BAU to help during the week you and Morgan had been missing. 

You remained lost in your thoughts until you felt the touch of Spencer’s hand on your shoulder. You looked up and gave him a gentle smile. 

“We’re gonna be late if we don’t go now. We have 39 minutes till we are considered late.” Spencer informs, trying not to derail from his normal personality so much that you noticed. He hated being pitied. And he knew that you did as well.

You nodded and began to follow. You climbed into the passenger seat and fastened your seatbelt. Your hands flexed and moved anxiously, unable to sit still. You took a few deep breaths, hearing Spencer get into the car alongside you. 

You finally opened your eyes and felt the car roar to life underneath you. You were heading back to work. You'd get back to normal soon. You had to. 

○●♡●○ 

The both of you had found a comfortable silence in the transport to the BAU. Spencer kept a comforting hand in yours, allowing you to squeeze it when needed. 

But now, as Spencer pulled into his usual parking spot, did your chest begin to tighten somewhat. You hadn't been here for what felt like years. Peter had abducted you from this very parking lot. Anyone would understandably be anxious. 

But by some miracle, you managed to keep your anxieties covert as Spencer and you got out of the car. Of course, Spencer suspected you had a little fear from being back here, but didn't push you. Many statistics had shown in the past that forcing a PTSD victim to share their trauma without it being their terms can be destructive to their mental health. Translation: He wasn't going to ask you about it. 

The ride up the elevator was torturous. Slow, agonizing, and not to mention extremely long. You found yourself fidgeting and moving in place rather than standing still. You'd never done this before. To say it didn't worry you would be a very big lie. 

"Are you sure you're ready, (Y/N)? You can always utilize the time off Hotch gave you." 

You appreciated Spencer’s worry, you really did. It helped to have someone there who was willing to care when you weren't. But that didn't mean that you still didn't get somewhat annoyed over the continuous asking. 

"Yeah, I'm fine Spencer. I just need to get my mind off…" you stopped and pushed a heavy exhale from your chest. "Everything." 

Spencer didn't push, and soon enough the two of you were inside the BAU's glass doors, walking towards the familiar bullpen. You subconsciously fix the cuffs of your dress shirt, avoiding the eyes of everyone who was shocked to see you. 

You sighed softly as you both continued into the bullpen, meeting the eyes of two of your coworkers. 

"(Y/N), What are you doing back so early? You have like, 5 weeks of available off time. You need to rest yourself. And your mind. Trauma isn't something that should be taken lightly." Prentiss spoke, stopping in your tracks to keep you from getting to your desk. 

Spencer, unbeknownst to you, made a cut it out gesture to Emily and cleared his throat. "It's alright. She's only going to be doing reports and desk work." Spencer expressed, looking around at everyone who had decided to turn around a watch. 

Emily sighed. "Alright. But I'm not going to let you go on any cases. I'm still your supervisory agent. You're lucky we're free of the more important cases so we've been working on yours." You feel an icy stab to the chest from her comment, reminding you of how unimportant you felt. You swallowed dryly and nodded, not caring that you hadn't said a word and had let Spencer talk for you. You didn't feel like talking anyway. 

You then sat down at your desk with a sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose as you felt the familiar breeze that came with a stack of reports falling onto your desk. 

You nodded towards whoever it was that gave you the reports and then started on them. It wasn't long until you had managed to clear all of your feelings from your mind and instead hyperfocus on the reports and the details in each. 

You lost track of so much time, that when Spencer put a cup of coffee on your desk, you jumped and almost verbally cursed. 

"Jesus-" you began, holding your chest for a moment. Spencer’s eyes widened and held his hands up once the coffee was safely level on your desk. 

"S-sorry. I-I just thought you could use a little bit of a 'pick-me-up' or whatever Morgan said it was." He seemed nervous, his hand finding his neck soon after finishing his statement. 

You smile at him genuinely for what feels like the first time in weeks and nod to him. "Yeah… I needed it. Thank you, Spence." 

Spencer’s eyes almost twinkle with happiness at your reply, his cheeks growing red and his smile appearing on his face as he goes back to his desk behind yours. 

Then the moment ended. 

"(L/N)? What are you doing back so early?" 

You turn your head and find Hotch walking towards your desk. You swallow a nervous laugh and instead begin to find a way to reply for yourself. Spencer didn't need to defend you forever. 

"Hotch… I can't stay at home like that. I need to keep my mind focused on something else. I can't sit by when you all still need my help. My case wasn't made of importance. Why should I treat it like it is?" You insist, shoving down the sob that desperately wanted to escape your throat. 

Hotch sighed and began to speak "(Y/N)..." 

"No. Let me speak. I'm not going to sit on my ass at home while you all work on the case that almost got Morgan killed. I'm going to help you. Its here at home. I won't have to go anywhere." Every part of you was begging for Hotch to understand. That he would give you a chance. 

Hotch gave you a questioning look for a few moments, allowing you to finish if you chose to continue, before he spoke up. "Just because you're healed physically doesn't mean you're better mentally. You went through something noone can relate to. You need to take the time to heal." 

"But I'm needed here, Hotch. I'm not going to go home and do nothing. It's just not my style. Now if you'll let me, I have a few more reports to do from this pile." You deadpan, gritting your teeth as you sit back down at your desk to finish reports filled with information you would never forget. 

Hotch sighed, looking back at Spencer for a moment before he turned around and began to continue on his list of things to do. 

You sighed and grumbled to yourself, trying to focus your emotions yet again so that you could finish the reports on your desk. But as fate would have it, you couldn't do that. 

"(Y/N/N)... Would you like to take a walk with me? It's almost our break. Maybe you could use a bit of fresh air? Scientifically, going outside helps to clear your lungs as well as lower blood pressure and heart rate." Spencer spoke up, tapping your shoulder gently once he knew he had your attention. 

You shook your head and cleared your throat. "No… no I'm going to finish these reports first. They're more important." You start. 

Spencer shook his head, his eyes widened slightly. "No," he starts, standing up and walking over to you. "These reports aren't more important than your well-being. I haven't pushed because I want you to talk when you're ready. But you can't act like you aren't important." 

You scoff and go to reply, just as the sound of a slamming glass door echos through the bullpen, making everyone's eyes travel to the source of the noise. This also meant you. 

By the time you looked, two familiar eyes were staring coldly into yours. Two wrinkled hands clasped at your shirt collar and yanked you forward violently. 

"How dare you ungrateful-" Margaret quips, slapping you across the face before you could even react. "Selfish, and ignorant child!" 

You cough harshly, earning the feeling of Margaret's hand again across your face. "M-mother…" you murmured, the agents around you trying to separate the two of you. 

"No, you have gone too far now! I paid him to take you! You are his property! Go to him! I have lost too much for you to disobey like the brat of a child you've always been!" Margaret scrambled, trying to get out of the arms of a much stronger agent who held her back away from you. 

Someone, who you soon recognized as Garcia and Emily, helped you to your feet. Spencer had very quickly come to your aide, sending Garcia off to fetch Rossi and Hotch. 

You grumbled for a few moments, the anger you felt beginning to come to a head. "Really? You paid him? I thought he was just trying to get under my skin with that, Mother." You spat, taking a few steps forward before looking up into (e/c) eyes. 

Your mother scoffed and rolled her eyes, looking back at you coldly. "Of course I did. You need someone to finally put you in your place. To teach you the manners I had somehow missed." 

You growled at her continuance. Your fist clenched at your side. She was your mother. And this was what she chose to do? Instead of being by your side when you needed a mother most, she admitted to being a part of why you were raped in the first place. 

"So you admit to selling a human? To selling your only daughter, just because I wouldn't abide to your stupid fucking rules?" You glared, spitting out the words like venom on your tongue. 

Spencer went to stop you, but Emily pulled him back. You needed this. 

"Yes I-" Margaret began, but you quickly put a stop to her excuses. 

"No. You're going to let me share my opinion for ONCE in my life. You're going to stand there and face the monster that you created. Be the perfect housewife you insisted on creating with me." 

Your mother rolled her eyes, but surprisingly didn't speak up again. You were slightly baffled by her sudden respect. But it didn't last long. 

"You were never there for me when I needed you. When I was in the hospital, after what Peter did to me, I needed you. After Peter's threats, I needed you. After each low grade on a test, I needed you. Not the harsh yelling and lecture I received from you and father. I needed the reassurance that it wasn't the end of the world. Whenever I had nightmares from my never ending memory bank of trauma, you sent me back to bed with the flick of your hand. I remember every word, every scowl, every upturn of your nose, every single moment you've spared for me my entire life. You're lucky I don't charge you with assault and child abuse. I don't because you're my mother. I thought maybe one day…" you feel the hot, rushing tears fall from your cheeks, making you aware of your vulnerability in front of everyone. 

You sniffled and wiped your eyes before you continued. "T-that maybe one day you'd change. And I-I'd have my mom." A tearful smile formed on your face, staring at the woman who had cause so much of your misery. "But still, you choose to remind me of how unimportant I've always been. How I am just a pawn in your game of chess. Easily disposable. Well here's a reality check for you, Margaret." You snapped, pointing a finger against her chest. 

"Check. Cause I'm not going to rest until you and Peter are both sent to prison where you both so clearly belong!" You yell into her ear. "So much for motherly love." You whisper harshly afterwards, turning around so that she didn't get the satisfaction of seeing you fall apart. 

Hotch entered your vision soon after, gesturing for you to meet him in his office. You sigh shakily, squeezing your eyes shut. 

Spencer stops you for a moment, holding your arms. "H-hey… you don't have to go immediately, you know. You can stay for a minute." 

You recognize his extended olive branch and take it. He didn't need to even say another word for you to collapse into his arms, sobbing as hard as your heart had been begging to since you'd left the hospital that morning. 

Oh how the mighty have fallen.


	25. Chapter 25

_Never to suffer would never to have been blessed. - Edgar Allan Poe_

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You bite your lip anxiously as you slowly pull away from Spencer’s now much more soaked cardigan. You sigh and attempt to wipe the spot down with your hand. "I'm sorry…" you said in a small voice. Spencer gently took your hands in his own and made you look into his eyes. 

"How can you be sorry for something you couldn't control? It's alright by me, (Y/N). Do you need someone to go in with you?" Spencer asked, his hands wanting desperately to hold you and to keep you ever so close to his chest so that you never had to fear for your safety. Because in his arms he could protect you. He could be the safe haven you needed to get back on your feet. And he would happily do so. 

You sniffled and pushed a strand on your hair that had fallen in your face behind your ear. You shook your head, gulping nervously before attempting to speak again. 

"N-no… Hotch wanted me to meet him in his office. I-I should be okay. Hotch… he wouldn't hurt me." You assure, although your voice betrayed your real feelings. You were nervous you were going to lose your probationary agent status and be downgraded to a desk-work agent. You were so close to the team now. You had already been working on fine-tuning your resume to turn in when Peter attacked you. 

Spencer sighed and squeezed your hand. "Okay. But just know I'll be here when you come out. I only have a few more reports to do. And each of them only require about a normal printer paper's worth of documentation to complete. Suffice to say you don't need to worry." 

You gave Spencer the best smile you could muster, which ended up only being a weak small one, before you turned your attention towards the small set of stairs. You then walked up to Hotch's office, the pounding of your heart and the rushing blood roaring in your ears. 

The carpet muffled the slight clop of your heels, quieting the pounding in your head just a smidge. You could see him in his office. He was business as usual, as always. You could feel your lungs collapse and refill as you took in each breath. You almost felt trapped inside your body. All around you you could only see blurry pictures of what was real. And you then began to see clearly what wasn't. Piercing, evil green eyes began to appear on the walls, all staring at you. 

Whatever you had carried in your hands was now on the floor, your chest feeling ever so heavy. One by one your senses and functions were turning themselves off. It started with your hearing, and then your sight began to darken around the edges of your vision. By then you could see the partial outline of Spencer’s figure, trying to say something. But you couldn't hear him. The only thing you could hear was the pounding and the roaring of blood and your heart in your ears. It was deafening. 

Then you lost your ability to breathe, clutching at your chest as you coughed and wheezed, trying to suck in as much air as you could as your throat closed and swelled. Spencer gripped your arms, and it seemed like Hotch soon after joined him in trying to help you. Then you lost the ability to stand. And you fell face first into Spencer’s arms where he thankfully caught you. But it wasn't long after this that you began to lose consciousness from the lack of air in your lungs and the increasing pounding of your heart. 

The last thing you knee you would remember was the semi clearing view of Spencer’s eyes looking into yours, trying to urge you to stay awake. 

○●♡●○ 

You reawaken to Spencer's apartment ceiling, confused as to how you had gotten there. More concerned as to who was there with you. You attempt to move, to make someone aware that you were awake. 

"Hey, so Sleeping Beauty actually awakens." 

You groan at the sudden realization of who was in the room with you. You sit up slowly, turning your head to see a familiar pair of whiskey colored eyes staring at you from the corner of the room. 

"G...Gabriel?" 

Gabriel nods and chuckles to himself, advancing closer to you and taking a seat next to you. "Yep. What, were you expecting a stringbean? Prince charming? Cause he's in the other room with Chocolate Thunder." 

You widen your eyes for a moment and start to laugh softly from knowing Gabriel knew Garcia's nickname for Morgan. "You know about that?" 

Gabriel gives you a raised eyebrow. "What don't I know about you and your new work friends at this point?" 

You nod a few times. Fair enough. 

"What I also know… is that you are so undeniably in love with that pipe cleaner with eyes in there it ain't funny. And he likes ya back. You know how many times I had to bribe him with my copy of the Hebrew version of the bible to leave you alone in here? He refused to let you go. Like seriously. Confess already. It's kinda sickening." Gabriel teases, nudging your shoulder. You look down at the floor, sniffling and laughing partly. 

Gabriel's teasing facade fell and he narrowed his eyebrows. "Kid… seriously. Are you okay? You passed out at work. That's not normal. Not even for me. And that's saying something." Gabriel's eyes widen and he holds up two hands as if saying he was innocently. 

You snicker gently, crossing your arms comfortably. "I… I guess? My uh… my Mom stopped by to beat me to a pulp today." 

Gabriel's face immediately shifted and redness increased in his face. "Are you serious? That bitch tried something? After what she did to you?! Selling you to fucking Peter?!" Gabriel hissed, his hands tightening at his sides. You flinch at his louder tone, sniffling and wiping your quickly tearing up eyes. 

"She's a narcissist, Gabe. S-she only cares about herself and th-the business. T-that she already got money for selling me to him. And it's non-refundable apparently." The dark cloud that had been around your head before your attack quickly was returning. And here you thought you'd finally be able to see sunlight. 

Gabriel sighed, his hand flexing against his jeans. "(Y/N)... I'm sorry kid. You don't deserve her. Deserve anything that's happened to you. Once we get her in jail alongside Pe-" 

You flinch at the beginning mention of Peter’s name, causing Gabriel to pause his statement and rephrase it. Gabriel sighed and began to speak again. "Once we get them both in jail, you'll be able to focus on yourself. Getting better. I'll even pay for your therapy if you want. It comes with candy I hear." Gabriel smirked, his tone growing playful to try and get a smile out of you. 

You do end up smiling gently, nodding wordlessly to your oldest friend. He wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer to him, letting you hug his torso. "Come 'ere. Let's just calm down for now, eh? Don't want you fainting on me again." Gabriel encouraged, gaining a brief chuckle from you. 

You snuggle closer, glad Gabriel understood you enough to know this was what you needed. You rest your head against his chest and listen to his heart's strong pumping. 

A few moments of resting later, a pair of footsteps exit the kitchen and make their way towards the living room. You feel a slight twinge of fear build up in your chest, but you quickly feel it exit when you hear his voice enter the room as well. 

"How is she?" Spencer asks Gabriel, probably assuming you were still asleep or adjusted while they were in the kitchen. 

"Fine, considering what she's been through. Thanks for calling me though, Spencer. I've been tryna get clearance to see her for a few weeks and only just got it. The life of a field agent." Gabriel expressed, getting what you guessed to be a nod and a grunt from Morgan. 

"It ain't all fun and games, I can tell you that." He answers, a sigh soon after leaving his lips. You open your eyes slowly and see Morgan clutching his lower thigh where he'd been shot by Peter. You resist your urge to bite your lip, wanting to enjoy a few minutes of just listening before having to interact. 

"What happened? Seriously? She didn't go into detail, and I respect that. But how did she end up fainting on her way to the boss's office?" Gabriel questioned, his hand rubbing up and down your arm. He knew you were still awake. It was like he already knew what was going through your head. 

"Her…" Spencer sighed, biting his nails for a moment as his eyes traveled over towards your supposedly sleeping form on his couch. "Her mother came in and attacked her. She stood up for herself but in the process I think she showed Hotch how unready she was for work. That's what he said anyway. That Derek and I should stay with her for a few weeks. We'll alternate cases once he goes back so she has someone at home." Spencer began to explain. You were glad you were awake now. Otherwise you doubted you would get as clear and concise of an explanation of what was going to happen if they knew you were awake. 

Gabriel gritted his teeth and looked off to the side in annoyance. "Yeah. I know about that. Which pisses me off honestly. How did she even get in? Don't you gotta have an ID to get in? An appointment or something?" He asks, his voice harsher than you'd ever usually heard it. 

"Hey, man we ain't in charge of that. That's the front desk. But yeah. Usually you gotta have an ID and or you gotta have an appointment or a meeting with an agent. She probably said she had a meeting with (Y/N) and they let her in." Derek explained, holding his hands up cautiously. 

Gabriel let out a sigh and groaned. "Fine fine. But still. It shouldn't be that easy. She should be as safe at that office as she is at home." 

Spencer nodded, his eyes closing slowly and staying closed as he sighed heavily. Something was weighing on him. You knew it. Was it you? It wasn't his fault. But then again, did he know that? 

You finally gained enough strength to finally face the two of your closest friends and began to open your eyes again, gently moving yourself away from Gabriel's chest. 

Spencer was the first to notice, his face immediately lighting up when he saw your open eyes. "(Y/N/N)..." he breathed, a smile pulling onto his face. Gabriel stifled a chuckle, rubbing your arm before giving you a reassuring look. You nodded to him, and he then stood up. He nudged at Morgan’s shoulder and winked at him. 

"Let's give 'em a few minutes, Brown Sugar. See? I can do nicknames too." He teases before he gestures for Morgan to follow him into the other room. Morgan laughed and winked back at him, following him into the kitchen. 

You look up at Spencer, gesturing to the seat beside you. He takes the spot as soon as you assure him that he was welcome. He was so cautious, wanting to make you as comfortable as you could be. You couldn't think of anyone else so attentive. 

"Spencer-" 

"(Y/N)-" 

You snicker softly, hearing a laugh echo from Spencer. For the first time in what felt like years you felt the foreign feeling of your heart skipping a beat. His laughter was like a blessing for you. And you were glad to have it. 

"You first." Spencer spoke up again after a moment. You sighed and rubbed your neck. 

"Spencer… I'm sorry. I… I didn't know I was going to faint or-or have a panic attack-" the increasing need to explain yourself filling up your chest. You didn't look him in the eyes, ashamed of not having been able to control how you acted.

But then he gently took your hands in his. Well, your wrists mostly. He was still wary of germs. "(Y/N/N)... Have I been known to lie to you?" 

You took a few deep breaths as you blinked at his question. "N-no… no you've always told the truth. That I know of." 

Spencer nodded. "Then should you determine that what I said to you when you apologized for wetting my cardigan, a lie?" 

You swallow nervously and sigh, shaking your head as you picked at your nails. You felt guilty. But that didn't mean what Spencer was saying didn't help. 

Spencer sighed. "You should not have to apologize for things you cannot control. It would be like asking me to apologize for having the IQ I do." _Or for loving you, which would be a crime to apologize for._ Spencer thought silently. 

Spencer’s hand raised up to your shoulder and rested there, pulling you closer to him. You both stayed quiet for a few moments, just listening to the other breathe. 

"You were awake when I talked with Gabriel, weren't you?" He asked after a few moments of silence. You bit your lip and exhaled tiredly. Your upper eyelids began to fall, proving your exhaustion. It was an exhaustion you hadn't felt since you were rescued from the clutches of your captor that shouldn't be named. 

"Y-yeah… I was just… I wasn't ready to really be awake yet." You explained. "I'm so-" 

Spencer shook his head. "Please, don't apologize for taking the time you needed." You didn't finish your statement, just letting yourself rest against him this time. 

"Okay…" you whispered, unsure of what else to say. Your tongue felt baren of words, unable to comprehend a combination that would effectively continue the conversation that you didn't second guess yourself on. 

"It's okay to have listened, (Y/N). I was just making sure you knew what Hotch said about you going back to work. You and Morgan have some time off that Hotch has given you both. He wants you to take the time to recover. If I'm totally honest, I do too." Spencer expressed, gently rubbing your arm as you laid against his chest. 

"But… I don't know what to even do with my time, Spencer. I'd bore myself." You look down at your fingers, groaning at the idea of being alone and unable to distract yourself from your self-destructive thoughts. You were glad you wouldn't be alone. Then maybe you'd be able to stave off of going back to self harm. 

"That's why Morgan will be here. For a little while. Then when he's able to go back in the field we'll alternate cases. So that you won't have to be alone, (Y/N)." Spencer assured you. "I'm sure I can help occupy your day with books." "O-or whatever you want to do." Spencer quickly adds, blushing softly. 

You smiled softly at his attempt to make you feel better. "Promise you'll read me Edgar Allen Poe and we have a deal." You attempt to tease. Spencer smiles at you and nods, hugging you closer. Seeing you cheering up was the best thing to happen to him in that entire half of the day since lunch break. You were safe in his arms. You were warm, protected, and that was all he could ask for. 

"Quoth the raven." Spencer answered, causing you to snicker. You curl up next to him, letting yourself ease breaths in and out. He was warm, and his heartbeat rhythmic. Forget any sort of music playlist. You could fall asleep listening just to his heartbeat and be off to dreamland in a matter of minutes. The warmth alone was comforting. Like a gigantic comforter that wrapped around you securely. 

"Spence… I…" you began, feeling an urgency full your chest. Were you really going to tell him? Tell him now how you felt? Would he feel the same? Gabriel could be wrong. Yet again, he was wrong about a lot of things. But were they ever this serious? 

Spencer adjusted his position so you could look him in the eyes. "Hm?" He answered, giving you the most adorable look you'd ever seen. Yeah. You were. While you still had this bit of confidence and urgency in your chest. Butterflies burst into your stomach, making you worry for a stutter. You wait a few moments to collect your bearings, before attempting what would be impossible with your normal level of confidence.

"I… I lo-" 

"Heya you two! Butterscotch and I just made cookies in here. You want one? They're your favorite, (Y/N)." Gabriel called from the kitchen. You jumped at the sudden additional voice, before sighing mournfully. 

"Are you okay?" Spencer asks. 

You exhale half annoyedly and nod. "Yeah… he just scared me." 

Spencer nodded and rubbed your back for a moment. "So… what were you going to say?" He asked, begging and hoping his cheeks weren't as red as they were warm. 

You look up into Spencer’s warm hazel eyes, but feel that last trickle of confidence slip away. You sigh and shake your head. "I… I uh… I wanted to ask if you'd want to have a movie marathon tonight. Just… as a distraction." 

Spencer blinked a few times before he nodded. "Yeah, totally. As long as Star Trek is in there somewhere." 

You giggle softly and chuckle. "Sure, fanboy." 

You stand up gently before beginning to head to the kitchen. Curse Gabriel and his want to share. You would already be kissing Spencer’s face off at this very moment if he'd waited a few more minutes before announcing he'd made cookies. But then again, (F/C/T) cookies sounded pretty good too. 

Back to the drawing board, with a few extra post-it notes of anxieties and PTSD. You'd get there. Somehow.


	26. Chapter 26

_Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of reality - Edgar Allen Poe_

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Unfortunately for you, serial killers didn't know how to wait. So not two days after Spencer had finally been able to be home with you were they called on a case. Their first one without you since you were hired. 

It left you with a slight dull feeling in your heart as you sat curled up on the couch reading the same page over and over as you kept losing focus. Morgan had stayed, as Spencer had promised. But he was currently asleep in Spencer's bed. Something about it being softer than his own with Savannah. Whatever that meant. 

You grumbled and closed the book after your fifth attempt at distracting yourself from how lonely you felt. And how the nagging feeling of thinking you're being watched didn't go away, even with Morgan’s less than helpful presence. 

You sighed and put the book down on the coffee table and picked up the remote instead. You flipped through a few channels until you find the news channel was having a 'Breaking News' segment. When the title appeared on the screen you almost screamed. 

_19 year old Arthur Grant goes missing from his family's estate, reward not yet posted._

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You widen your eyes, your hands beginning to shake. Why? Why you? Why must you be overloaded with so much grief and trauma? Did some bereavement mailman decide to ditch his route and dump all of the bad stuff on your doorstep? 

You didn't even have tears that came to be shed. You'd cried so much the past week that you had run the banks dry and squeezed more than at least 5 headaches out of you. And each of them having lasted at least 4-5 hours. Sometimes more. 

Instead of your normal first step of denial, or depression in the stages of grief you unfortunately knew too well, you found anger boiling up through your feet, making your toes curl and your fists clench. You were pissed. Everyone around you was suffering because of Peter's self-absorbed, narcissistic, and sociopathic God-Complex. And you were sick of it. 

You didn't care who heard, who came running to see if you were okay. You just couldn't hold back your frustration anymore: you screamed. 

You threw the remote against the couch, still having half the mind to keep from destroying it. It was still Spencer's property. You didn't exactly have the 20-40 bucks to give to replace it. So, precautionary aggression was the best course of action. 

Your hands found your hair and gripped tightly, letting out a frustrated and loud grumble. You could still see his cocky smirk, his evil eyes as they stared at you like you were nothing but a good fuck to him. You could hear his sickening laughter in your ear, and you could hear the rumble of the gravel underneath the tires of his stupid truck. You were almost there, same feelings, same feeling of paranoid, survival instinct came rushing into your decision making controls and overrided them.

You were engulfed in the flashback, seeing him, feeling the cold metal of the cuffs around your wrists as they dug into your skin, the shiver of having your clothes ripped off of you like you were some prize he had won, it was too much. 

You were panting and holding your head, trying to make sense of everything and trying to get a grip on your own reality. You ended up backing up into the dining table and sending things to the floor. This only amped up your paranoid reaction, causing you to be on guard, but thankfully the flashback was able to end. 

Then, some poor soul decided to knock on the door. Your eyes snapped towards the mahogany door and you let out an instinctive growl. You then began stalking towards the door, sneering and baring your teeth. 

As you made your way towards the door, a pair of protective arms wrapped around you, preventing you from opening the door or causing anymore ruckus from your rampage. 

"Woah there feisty, what was all that for? I thought you were seriously in trouble." 

Morgan’s calm but worried voice was like fire extinguisher to your anger and your guard, calming you down in a matter of minutes. The fire quelled inside of you, being replaced with a lake of sadness and pain. And unfortunately, that meant that instead of anger, well, you had to deal with tears. Which you had recently come to find were annoying as hell. 

"Morgan…" you breathed, letting yourself become almost limp in his arms. You felt the tears building, almost climbing inside your eyes. You couldn't do this. You couldn't face him again. Face these memories. But you were fucking stuck with them. You had no way of forgetting them. Ever. Thanks to your stupid memory. You didn't want it. You wished you had a normal memory, or at the very least an eidetic memory like Spencer's. At least then you could forget some things. But you? No. No the only things you couldn't remember were whether or not your parents ever really nursed you or even held you when you were an infant. Even the things you did remember weren't pleasant. No warm glow, no blanket colors. Just the cold, monotone voice of your father introducing you to your 'future staff'. 

Morgan held you, not asking you any questions. He just let you begin to cry and let out your frustration on him. Your balled up fist gently hit his chest a few times as you wailed and inaudibly tried to explain what you thought had happened. He didn't stop you, just tried to sooth you as the knocking sounded again. 

You froze in Derek's arms, the knocking now being persistent and fear-inducing now that you had your overly cautious mind back. 

"D-derek…" you whispered. Derek shook his head. 

"I'll get it, alright? You stay right here." He says, gesturing for you to stay. He didn't have to tell you twice, you were still hiccuping from your sobs. 

Derek slowly approached the door, looking through the peephole before opening it slowly. "Hey… you should've called first. We might've been able to answer quicker." 

All of your fears and concerns and panic all ceased at the sight of the man, well more of a boy, that stood in the doorway. 

You stood there in disbelief as you called to him, hoping you weren't seeing things. 

"Arthur?" 

○●♡●○ 

Spencer sighed as he was put in charge of the geographical profile yet again. He had a newfound routine in having you help him with it so much so that he found it harder to do his job. 

Not to mention his mind was filled with worry about how you were at home. How your well-being was, if Morgan would be enough company for you when you had the nightmares he knew you had after everything. He'd been the one to comfort you after each and every one in the hospital. He just hoped that Morgan could still comfort you while he was away. 

Not only that, but a certain Real Estate Broker had his mind doing flips and his eyes seeing red whenever he thought of him and what vile thing he could be planning next. Spencer hated being away from you. Especially when everyone knew by now that Peter was a snake and was easily able to slither away. And to sneakily find you as he had done before. Spencer was thankful now that he had asked you to stay with him in his apartment rather than your own. If you were staying in yours, the chances of Peter finding you were 90-100%. And he hated those odds. 

So safe to say, Spencer's mind was at odds with itself. And to top it all off all he could think about was what it would be like to squeeze the trigger and kill Peter himself. For you. That's all he wanted was revenge for you. He'd have to make sure he didn't instigate anything, so that it would be seen as self defense. But he would love to feel the backlash of gunfire if it meant that Peter would be dead. And you would be safe. 

"Hey, any progress on that profile yet?" 

Spencer looked up and saw JJ standing in front of where he stood next to the map, having found himself lost in thought with his fist clenched around the little box of pins in his hand. 

"Oh, uh… no, not yet. I was just… distracted is all." He admitted, pulling out the box from his hand and pinning the last two locations for the dump sites. 

"From what I can see just from first glance is that the dump sites seem to be within 6 or 7 miles between each other, give-or-take." Spencer expressed, trying to flip on his work brain to no avail. He soon found himself thinking of you before he finished his statement. 

JJ looked at him with a sad smile. "You're worried about her, huh?" 

Spencer was caught off guard by JJ's question, causing him to turn towards her a few seconds later. "Huh? Who?" He asked. 

JJ gave him a slightly teasing look. "You know who. Garcia told us and the rest of the team about your little crush on her. Apparently she overheard you talking to your mom a few weeks ago. Said you loved her." JJ reveals, a gentle and motherly smile on her face. 

Spencer felt a warmth rise to his cheeks, suddenly feeling much warmer in his cardigan than usual. "S-she did?' 

JJ nodded. "Mhm. It's okay, Spence. Besides, I kind of figured after how you carried her back to the ambulance. She was snuggled up on you. And you refused to let her go until you knew for certain that the lead medic had an actual medical license." JJ teased gently. 

Spencer sighed and rubbed his neck, closing the box of pins so as to not spill them all over the carpet. "Is… is it that obvious?" 

JJ nodded again, a slight giggle on her lips. "Am I or am I not a liaison for the BAU?" She asked, obviously giving him a half hard time. "But seriously, I know you're worried about her. We all are. But she's gonna be alright. Morgan’s with her. Even with a busted knee he can wrestle any man to the ground." 

Spencer sighed. JJ was right. The only reason Morgan had been taken by Peter was because he caught him off guard and was shot before he could shoot first. He was more than capable of protecting you. So why did he feel so badly? 

Spencer rubbed his face and put the box down on the map's marker holder. "I know, JJ. I just… I can't help but worry about her. What if she has a nightmare and I'm not able to be there to comfort her? Wh-what if she has a panic attack and I can't get to her cause I'm all the way out here in South Dakota?" He asked, his worries getting the best of him. 

JJ lifted her non-full hand and laid it on Spencer’s shoulder, no matter how much taller he was than her. "Spence. She's going to be okay. We have people watching over your apartment building on Strauss's orders. They're doing it on their overtime. I think she's safe. Even then, you're just a phone call away, right?"

Spencer sighed again, now noticing that JJ carried with her a coffee in her hand that wasn't on his shoulder. JJ laughed. "I'd be wary of the day you don't smell coffee when it's available. You're lucky it's for you." JJ teased, handing the warm cup to him. 

Spencer took it and took a quick sip of the liquid. "Thank you, JJ. Really. I… I really needed this." He says. JJ nods. 

"I figured you did. Now I gotta go address the press. They're gathering like vultures out there. So I gotta be their food source." She jokes. Spencer laughed and nodded. 

"Yeah… actually, most vultures tend to go for larger prey than the usual roadkill, as that is more sustenance for them-" Spencer began to ramble. JJ laughs as he caught himself. 

"Yeah, just like every animal it seems." She answers before he leaves the room, opening the door wider as Garcia bursts into the room with her laptop. 

"Reid! Reid I think I might've gotten word about Peter!" 

○●♡●○ 

"Arthur?" 

Your brother chuckles slightly and rubs the back of his neck. "Surprise? Please don't tell me you've watched the news. You know how dramatic mother is. I told her I was going to come visit you and-" 

He didn't get to finish his sentence as you very quickly engulfed him in a hug. You felt short, as he had grown much taller than you. But you didn't care. He was still your little brother. And you loved him. 

"Y-you're okay… you...you've grown so much…" you begin, looking up at him as you pull away. Arthur's arms had very quickly reciprocated your hug, enjoying the first bit of contact he has had with you since you left. 

"Yeah, apparently somewhere in my genes there's supposed to be another inch or two. But I think I'm done." He laughs, laying a hand on your head. You smile at him, your panic completely gone at this point. 

Derek raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms from where he stood. "(Y/N), you wanna tell me who this is?" He asks. 

You look over at Morgan and laugh softly, Arthur having given Morgan his most awkward expression. He really hadn't changed much. 

"Derek, this is my younger brother, Arthur Grant." You introduced. Then you turned to Arthur. "Artie, this is SSA Derek Morgan. He… He was the agent P-Peter captured alongside me." 

Arthur widened his eyes and held out his hand to Derek as he gulped. "N-nice to meet you. T-thank you for protecting her. She's really all I've got." He says, rubbing his neck. 

Derek smiled and gave Arthur a firm handshake in return. "It was my honor, Arthur. I'm glad she's got some real family left. Not that her work family isn't good." He jokes, nudging your arm. You rolled your eyes and smiled to yourself. 

"Hey, as a wise man on Supernatural once said, 'Family don't end in blood'. And I think that qualifies here." You giggle softly, happy to have found even a small bit of happiness and willingness to be able to express it freely. 

Arthur shook Morgan’s hand gladly and smiled his signature smile, looking back towards you. "Hey, uh… sis? Can we… can we talk? I haven't seen you for… what is it… five years now? I just wanna catch up." He expresses, his eyebrows turning up genuinely. 

You sigh, but nod. "Morgan, can you go into the other room while we talk? Just for a half hour?" You ask. Morgan shrugs and nods. 

"'Course kid. He's the only member of your damn family I'll trust. Just don't be gossiping without me." He teases as he leaves the room. You giggle softly as you watch him leave. 

"So… how have you been? O-other than-" Arthur began, his awkwardness taking over. You sigh and hold up a hand and look at him sadly. 

"Artie… please, let's just… not talk about that. I'm dealing with it. That's all that you need to know right now. You might be taller than me, but that doesn't mean that you're gonna know all of my secrets like an older brother." You tease, guiding Arthur towards the couch. 

Arthur playfully rolled his eyes and followed you, mocking offense. "Oh come on, height has to factor in there somewhere Sis." 

You shake your head and take a seat beside him on Spencer’s couch, sighing gently. "Nope, sorry little bro." You insist. 

Arthur smiles at you and leans back on the couch, sighing as he looks at you. "(Y/N/N)... you… You have no idea how much I've missed you. I pushed myself to graduate with all honors because of you. I got a scholarship too. In business. Because you always pushed me to do better. To do my best. I… I want to do something for you in return. Please. Name it. I can start making it up to you." 

You give Arthur a joking look and shook your head. "No need, Arthur. Besides, that was all you. You just needed the extra push. I'm so proud of you." You say, laying a hand on Arthur's arm. He smiled at you and took a sigh, signaling to you that the conversation was about to take a turn. 

Arthur's hands intertwined with each other and he leaned over for a moment, his elbows digging into his thighs. "(Y/N)... Look I… I know you said you were okay but…" he sighed again. "Mom she… she forbade me from seeing you in the hospital, I promise that's the only reason I wasn't there. After I promised to testify against her for you she banned me from leaving home." 

You widen your eyes, your mouth gaping a bit. "Arthur… y-you're testifying?" 

He looked up at you and nodded. "Yeah. She assaulted you at work and literally sold you, sis. If I can put her away, along with him, I'm gonna do it. For you. I want you to be safe. I may not be your older brother, but I want you safe too. I'm gonna try and protect you like a brother should. I couldn't do much as a scrawny 13 year old you know." He chuckled. You laughed briefly, a smile teasing at your lips. 

"Yeah… not really." You giggled. He shook his head and laughed back. 

"Ha ha. Very funny. But really… it's good to see you sis. I… I'm sorry I didn't do enough for you back then." He exhaled, his expression solemn and regretful. You take his hands in yours and give him a reassuring look. 

"Hey, just as you said. You were a scrawny 13 year old. What much could you do?" You point out. Arthur sighed. 

"I could've protected you. At least told Peter to scram at least once." He grumbled. You shake your head and smile at him. 

"I think I did that enough for the both of us." 

Arthur smiled softly and looked down, showing you his vulnerability when it came to you. You squeezed his hands gently, assuring him it was okay. 

And you both sat there in each other's company for a few more moments of silence. It wasn't an awkward one, so there were no awkward feelings. 

Arthur spoke up a few minutes later, having come up with an idea. "Can… can I at least pay for your therapy? I can pay for it with the money dad gives me. You… you need to see someone. I saw someone, you pushed me to go see Dr. Francesca and now I see her every two weeks. Please… let me do this for you." 

You sighed as Arthur began to try and persuade you. Damn him and his puppy eyes. He still had the gift. 

"Tell you what, how about we call Derek back in here and we watch some procedural cop show that we can all laugh at and I'll tell you what I decide later?" You narrowly avoid. Arthur thankfully notices this and drops the question. 

"Only if the show is dumb enough for a citizen like me to laugh at it." He settles. 

You giggle and nod. "Deal!"


	27. Chapter 27

_I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity - Edgar Allan Poe_

__

__

Spencer raised an eyebrow as Garcia came into the room with her open laptop in her hands. She immediately placed the grey slab on the desk and began typing rapidly. 

"W-what do you mean? What do you have?" Spencer asked, rushing over towards Garcia's side to see what she intended to show him. 

"I've been keeping track of all the surveillance cameras in the surrounding tri-state area. And get this; just an hour ago, I got this glimpse of a very Peter-y looking guy up in Baltimore on one of their traffic cams. He got out of the city but he's headed back here. His license plate wasn't in his name, but he was driving a black chevy truck. I've put it out on the APB so the police can bring him in if they find that car." Garcia shows, turning the laptop towards Spencer to show him the footage. 

On the screen, sure enough Peter was there in what was a chevy truck and with a baseball cap and a dirty flannel. He seemed to be on the phone. Whoever he was on the phone with obviously got on Peter’s nerves, as over the ten seconds of video where he was in the view of the camera, he yelled into it before tossing it out his window. 

Spencer widened his eyes and began to stumble over his words. "D-do we know if that was a-a disposable?" He asks. Garcia looks up at him and shakes her head. 

"I don't know his true personal number so I can't track and see if it's called any numbers repeatedly." She apologizes. Spencer curses under his breath and rubs his face tiredly. 

"I… I guess I'll have to ask (Y/N) when we get back if her phone records still exist from before she abandoned her old life. Maybe we can check the numbers he used to stalk her with. If any of them have any recent repeated calls we need to bring them in for questioning." Spencer insists, pacing through the room instead of getting anywhere on the geographical profile. 

Garcia nodded. "I'll do the best I can for now Jr. G Man." She says, closing her computer and then clicking her heels as she left the room to get back to her temporary office. Spencer sighed tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose as he took an exhausted sip of the coffee JJ had given him. He watched Garcia go, nothing but sleep weighing on his eyelids.

All he could think of was you. But unfortunately, they had a case. And the case came first. 

But that didn't mean Spencer wouldn't be willing to drop everything he was doing to drop kick Peter onto his ass multiple times if he decided to show himself. 

Spencer grabbed the small box he had of pins and got back to work, hoping sincerely that you were okay back at home. 

It wasn't long after he finished that JJ and Emily came back from investigating the main dump site, and came back to inform him of the new findings. 

"Another body? Where?" He asked, turning his head towards Emily as he picked up another obnoxiously red pin. 

"9 miles from here. It fits the distance, except it was 3 miles more than the normal 6-7. What made him change?" She asked. 

"Maybe someone saw him abduct this girl and he drove farther to prevent this murder being tied to the others?" JJ asked. 

The two women continued talking while Spencer added the pin and began to look over the map. He wasn't really listening. Why was he so distracted? He never usually had this much trouble, especially when you were here. 

His mind was going blank as he looked over the blending blurs of the map. He was developing one of those headaches again. The colors on the map all began to blur together and he couldn't make any of them out. He grunted in frustration and gripped the side of his head from the sudden onslaught of pain. 

"Dammit…" he exhaled as he narrowly placed the box of pins yet again in the marker tray of the map. 

"Hey… you okay there Reid?" Emily asked, her voice changing to express her concern. JJ wasn't too far behind her, her voice soft and motherly. 

"Yeah, you've been kind of out of it since we left." 

Spencer shook his head. "I'm fine, alright? Just… another one of my headaches. Garcia's news didn't really help anything." He grumbled. 

"News? About what?" Emily spoke up, putting her pen against her hand. She adjusted in her seat, as if preparing herself for whatever news Garcia had given him. 

Spencer groaned and rubbed the front of his head, his fingers digging into his scalp. "She said she found traffic surveillance footage of Peter in South Baltimore. He wore a… pretty pathetic disguise? Like… a Yankees cap and a stained flannel hiding some sort of beer company t-shirt. The only letters I could come up with from the exposed fabric were C, D, and B. The B ended up standing for beer when he moved and exposed more of the shirt-" he was pacing now without realizing, and stopped himself once he noticed. 

JJ looked towards Emily for a moment, then back at Spencer waringly. "Do we know for sure where he is?" She asked. "He could be in Quantico by now if this footage isn't too old." JJ warned. 

Spencer’s eyes widened. "No… no, no, no… He… Morgan’s at home. He doesn't know my apartment… she's safe…" he began to rant, more to himself than to the women. 

Emily sighed and stood up. "Reid, I think you need to take a break." 

Spencer looked up from the sudden change, his eyes and pupils as wide as saucers. "What?" He breathed. 

"A break. You know, take a walk. Read a book or 16. Call her maybe." Emily suggested, her shoulders rising with her last one. 

Spencer looked back down to the ground for a moment, finally his nerves deciding to take a break from causing him so much distress. "Maybe… maybe I will…" 

Emily smiles down at him, but unfortunately was a little too soon. 

"But only after we find this unsub. Hotch wouldn't want any of us to slack off. Especially with two of our team members on leave." Spencer insisted. Emily sighed and looked to JJ for help. The blond just shrugged and gave her a smile. One that most definitely said 'Well, we tried.' 

"Well… Good luck then Reid. Don't overwork yourself though, okay? If you do I'm telling (Y/N) myself." Emily teasingly threatens. 

Spencer chuckled. "You wouldn't. She hasn't told me anything regarding overworking myself before." 

JJ grinned. "Doesn't mean she won't." 

○●♡●○ 

A few hours passed and Arthur had to leave. Your mother would be tracking him by cell phone before he knew it, and he didn't want to risk giving your mother anymore 'product' to sell to Peter. You understood, and wished him well as he went off, of course not without Morgan giving him a talk about trying to use a disposable from now on. 

But for now, you were doing the dishes as you listened to Beethoven and tried to distract yourself from Derek's obnoxious snoring. Yes, he had decided to catch up on sleep while he was with you. But you didn't blame him. There wasn't much to do. So you settled on chores while Spencer’s favorite composer played over the speakers of your cracked I-phone (Or Samsung). 

You hummed along with the familiar tune and scrubbed at the ceramic plates Spencer had in the sink. It was a miracle they were even used at all, given the amount of paper plates you had found and had thrown away when you first actually got to sleep in the apartment. It seemed so long ago since he first brought you here. He hardly ever used his flatware and relied on the 'Great value' brand to supply him with things in which to put food on to eat. But thankfully, you had been slowly getting him brought back to the light side of the force. But it was an uphill battle for sure. 

_"Why do I have to use them? They're easily breakable, (Y/N). The plates I buy are biodegradable." Spencer had grumbled as you insisted on putting the food you had made on one of his ceramic plates._

__

__

_You had playfully rolled your eyes. "Because! You wouldn't have to buy the 'biodegradable stuff' if you used plates you could wash instead. Problem solved."_

__

__

_Spencer had then replied with a very childish and frustrated stuck out tongue and an annoyed huff that had sent you and your aching insides into a fit of laughter._

The memory brought a smile to your face, causing you to put the plate down so as to not drop it into the sink from how far you had it held in the air. (If you dropped it, he'd really get after you about the paper plates) 

As you continued to wash the dishes, your mind began to travel back to Spencer. You wondered what he was up to. What he was thinking about. Did he think of you? If he did, did he think of you the way you did him? 

A sigh released itself from your lungs, letting your chest fall. The dance you had invited Spencer to was still in four months. Maybe then would be your next chance to tell him how you felt. But with that long of a wait, you didn't think you could do it. You wanted him to know. Even if you ended up being hurt in the end, you wanted desperately to tell him. Unfortunately, cookies and killers were successful at pushing your opportunities away. 

You finished the last dish; Spencer didn't have any more than 6 dishes in his sink due to it only being the two of you. Derek always washed his dish when it was cleared. You turned the sink off and quickly dried your hands with the dish towel on the oven handle. Once the dishes were all in the dishwasher, you began to wander back into the living room. 

You had done what laundry there was to do and Derek wasn't due to wake up for another 2 hours. He had specifically asked you to wake him up when it was 6:30 pm. So you decided that since you had virtually nothing else to do, you'd take a nap. You'd wake up at the same time you were set to wake up Morgan, and then you'd both be rested. 

You turned off all the lights and closed the curtains for a dimmer light. You then grabbed the blanket Spencer had recently been keeping on the back of the couch and curled up in it. You didn't want to head into Spencer’s room and bother Derek just to borrow one of Spencer’s hoodies. No matter how much you really did want to steal one. 

You settled in on the couch, and closed your eyes, letting your body begin to rest more and more with each inspiration and expiration. 

When 6:30 hit, and Derek had somehow managed to wake himself up without your assistance, he groggily got up to go check on you. 

"Hey, Pretty Girl, what happened with you waking me up, huh?" He asks you, rubbing his eyes with his hand. He expected an answer, but instead heard the sudden movement of fabric and the thud of something hitting the coffee table. He narrowed his eyes and looked down at you, and found you asleep. However, it was not peaceful. 

Your leg kept trembling, almost kicking the coffee table as the rest of you shook in terror. You mumbled incoherent pleas under your breath, causing Morgan to panic. He was afraid this would happen. 

"H-hey, kid," he started, gently putting a hand on your shoulder to slowly get you awake without alarming you. He gently shook you, but you proved to be unwakeable. So he took in a deep breath before he shook you a bit harder, calling your name a little louder. "(Y/N), hey, come on kid it's just a nightmare-" 

You finally woke, heavy breathing and a jolt forward followed by a violent shaking came afterwards. You hated this. Even after having just woke up. You felt terrified. Fear was coursing through you and you had no way out of it. 

You whimpered and curled up in the corner of the couch, unable to calm your racing heart or your uncontrollable breathing that came in harsh sobs. 

Derek felt his eyebrows tilt as he looked at you. "Kid I… " he sighed, looking at you pitifully. You and him both were in the same boat. He had been sleeping more often to escape the look in Peter’s eyes he was reminded of whenever he saw you. But he knew you needed him, that was why he had been cutting back on his sleeping. It wasn't healthy anyways. 

"C-call Spencer…" you whispered softly, hugging your knees. 

Derek raised a confused eyebrow and got a little closer to your reserved form. "What'd you say?" He asked, unsure of what you actually said. 

"P-please…" you spoke up a little louder, taking a deep breath as you began your request. "C-call Reid…" 

Derek didn't know how Spencer was supposed to help, but he didn't want to sit by when you clearly needed the genius. 

He nodded and grabbed his phone from his pocket, dialing Reid's number. He pressed the phone to his ear, whispering pleas for Spencer to pick up the phone. He reached over and gave you the option of holding his hand, to which you thankfully accepted. You squeezed his hand for dear life, just wanting to hear Spencer’s voice and hear him recall one of the many poems he'd read to calm your mind. 

Meanwhile, Spencer was currently standing beside JJ, feeling his phone buzz as Hotch tried to deliver the profile. Spencer had given his expertise already, and just wanted to see who was calling him. He'd already been on high alert in case it was you. And no amount of convincing himself to focus on work was helping. 

"Please have all of your available officers out looking for this unsub, and warn women of his type around the neighborhood and in the kill zone." Hotch began to warn. Spencer’s phone continued to buzz, causing the room to turn their eyes towards him. He blushed softly and flashed Hotch a desperate look. He sighed, but nodded. 

Spencer nodded back in rushed thanks before muttering his apologies and leaving the main room to answer his phone. 

Once outside, he picked up his phone and answered. 

"Sorry, we're in the middle of delivering the profile, so I was a little caught up. How is she?" Spencer asked. 

"Reid, she's… I don't know…" Derek replied, wishing he could hug you and soak up all your pain. He took the phone away from his ear and put it on speaker. "She just woke up from another nightmare. She told me to call you." 

You look towards Morgan, gesturing to see if you could take the phone. He nodded, still never letting go of your hand. 

"S-spence?" You whispered into the phone. 

"Hey…" he replied calmly. "Are you okay?" 

Instant relief washed over you. Not completely instant and overwhelming, but you suddenly felt a rush feeling of being protected and loved. Even if Spencer didn't know it yet. 

You sniffled. "H-honestly? No. I'm the furthest from okay." You wiped your eyes of incoming tears, exhaling sharply so as to not encourage more sobbing. 

Spencer felt his heart ache from hearing you cry. He wished he were home with you. So it wasn't just you and Derek. Strangely, after that thought, a misplaced thought of jealousy panged his heart. Seriously? This wasn't the time to be jealous of his best friend for getting to spend extra time with the girl he loved who he hadn't gotten enough courage to confess to yet. He supposed he was just worried that when he'd be ready to tell you, you wouldn't feel the same anymore. 

"Is there anything I can do to help? I still have all of Edgar Allan Poe's works memorized if you need me to recite one." He offers. The idea brings a slight, and small smile to your face. 

Derek's face lit up at the arrival of said smile, showing off his own signature one. 

"Please? S-spence I don't want to i-intrude on the c-case but-" you began to ramble and try to explain. 

"Hey, it's okay. Hotch cleared me to come take this call. You're my top priority right now. Not the case, not the profile, you." Spencer assured, smiling genuinely as he even was able to hear your voice. 

You sighed gently, and let your mind relax for a moment. "O-okay… but y-you pick this time." You replied. Spencer replied in kind. 

"Sure, (Y/N/N). He answered. "How about The Raven this time? It's one of his most well known works, and it surprises me you haven't asked me to read it yet." 

You can feel your nerves slowing down and relaxing as you let out a soft giggle. "S-sure. But you know that's because you prefer the obscure ones." 

Spencer rolled his eyes teasingly, as if you could see them. Derek gave you a reassuring look, and you nodded, letting him sit back for a moment as Spencer Reid began to read yet again another poem to you to calm the raging storm of emotions stirred from your nightmares. 

Spencer cleared his throat teasingly before he began, pulling a slight laugh from you. "Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore--while I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping…" 

Just as it was each and every time he did this for you, it calmed every part of you to hear his voice alter somewhat to fix the tone of the poem. To hear the way the words rolled off his tongue even without the poem in his hands. 

You were asleep before he could even finish the poem. But that didn't matter to him. He just finished the poem and sighed to himself. 

"Is she asleep?" Spencer asked softly. 

"Yep. Out like a light." Morgan says, readjusting the blanket over you. 

"Good. Just… call me if she needs anything else. I should be able to answer. If not text Hotch for me." Spencer expressed. 

If only he could be there to see your beautiful face asleep on his couch. Maybe even with your head on his chest. To hold you close. To hear your gentle breathing in and out. 

Derek got to do that. 

Spencer couldn't help the jealousy he felt in his heart. Derek could get any girl he wanted. Even you. But Spencer's heart couldn't help protesting that you were supposed to be his. He wanted you to be his. His life. His love. His Darling. Well...

Only time will tell.


	28. Chapter 28

_"And when he smiles. I find a reason to live a little more" - Nehwish_

Spencer’s knee bounced as he felt the turbulence of the plane getting ready to land. He'd never had trouble with planes in the past. Especially the landing. He supposed it was his nerves. 

Spencer bit at his nails nervously and looked out the window of the jet, catching the interest of Rossi and Emily. 

"Don't worry, there's a bathroom." Rossi jokes, smirking at the young genius when he finally turned his head towards the voice. 

Spencer sighed, deciding not to add fuel to the flame and shut his mouth. They all knew at this point that he wanted desperately to get back to you. His feet were itching to break into a run to head back to his apartment, but unfortunately he did not have the ability to glide on air. 

Emily smiled and leaned closer to Spencer. "Come on, Reid. It's okay to be worried." She assures, shrugging softly. Spencer looked away, thinking her words over. 

"I-I… I know I can be worried." He exhaled. "But the probability of Peter getting back to her before I do increases by each minute I'm away from her." Spencer felt an urgency welling up inside of his chest, and he couldn't get rid of it. 

Garcia popped up on the screen and sighed. "Hey, tell you what. How about I call Morgan and have him bring her to the BAU? So you can see her when you guys get unloaded?" Garcia suggests. 

Hotch nods. "That's a good idea, Garcia. I need to speak with Morgan as well so this will be convenient for the both of us." 

Garcia nods and clicks off her computer with some random farewell. Spencer felt a bit of his apprehension fall away at the idea of being able to see you sooner than originally planned. He could finally be in your presence and hold you when you wanted him to. He could comfort you. He could be there physically. For you. 

Reid looked down at his hands, noticing how diminished his fingernails were with how much he'd been biting. He knew it was just a nervous tick, but it wasn't good for him. 

"Try pinching the skin on the back of your hand instead. It gives the same effect." Rossi spoke up, moving over to sit across from Spencer. 

Spencer looked up at Rossi in interest, confused as to how that would be any better. "Pinching the taut skin of the back of the hand would cause more injury than biting nails. Did you know that our nails are made up of the same material in our hair? It's actually quite interesting-" 

Rossi raised a hand. "I took anatomy in highschool. I think I know what makes up my greying hair." He smirked, making one appear on Spencer’s face as well. 

Spencer smiled and began to look around, then back at his watch to check the time. Rossi adjusted his posture before he began to speak again. 

"Kid, let me tell you something about what I learned with all three of my ex wives. Don't wait to say it." 

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows, confused as to what Rossi meant. "I-I don't think I follow, Rossi. Don't wait to say what?" 

"Don't keep her waiting on those three little words. If you keep pushing it off, she may move on without you." Rossi advised. "Tell her how you feel. Most women love hearing how you truly feel about them. They love honesty. That's why we're often the ones doing the asking." 

Prentiss looked back at Rossi with a teasing look. "'Most women'? Hell, I enjoy honesty. Who really appreciates lies? My exes maybe." She shrugged, making JJ laugh. 

Spencer exhaled a tired sigh before running a hand through his messy hair. "I suppose that makes sense. B-but she's still recovering Rossi. What kind of person would I be to try and tell her now? I'd be taking advantage of her. That's the furthest from what I want." 

Rossi shrugged, sitting back into his seat as the jet began to touch down. "Whatever you say." 

Spencer looks out the jet's windows, thinking of you. And of Morgan. 

A few moments later, two agents opened the jet's door and stairs, allowing them all to unload from inside. Spencer was the first to his feet and out the door. 

JJ and Emily shook their heads, smiling knowingly. Rossi sighed as he got himself up from the jet seats. "Kids these days." He grumbled to Hotch, who smiled softly. 

Spencer tried not to make it obvious how hurried he was to get to you, his pace a fast walk instead of a run. It was hard not to race towards the back entrance to the BAU where he knew you'd be waiting for him in the bullpen. But he could do this. You were okay. He was going to see you. 

"Geez, excited much? You'd think a limited time showing of the original Doctor Who was playing in theaters." Emily teased beside him, hurrying in front of him to unlock the entry. 

"Forgive me for wanting to ascertain the safety of (Y/N)." Spencer expressed, the words coming out colder than he meant. 

Spencer hurried into the building once the door was open, rushing to the stairwell; the elevator was just too slow.

All he could think of was seeing you. Once he did, then maybe he'd consider doing his reports. 

Thinking about it now, he most definitely had it bad for you. 100.00% There wasn't a moment where he was near you that he didn't feel his heart beating a little faster. That he didn't feel a squeeze on his heart and his words got stuck in his throat. There was never a time that he wasn't thinking about what you might say if he were to kiss you in that moment. 

Finally, after three minutes and five flights of stairs, he burst through the door and hurried into the bullpen, slowing himself down once he saw you.

You smiled happily once Spencer entered your field of vision, putting the bag of food you had in your hands on the nearest desk to your right. It wasn't long after that you felt Spencer’s arms wrapped around your waist and pulling you tightly against him. 

"Spence," you smiled, hugging him back just as tight. Spencer put his face in the crook of your neck, reminding himself that you were indeed safe and not in danger. 

"Thank God you're safe," he exhaled, beginning to calm further as your hand met his hair. 

"Yeah, I'm okay Spence. Why would you think otherwise?" You were confused as to what was making him so worried over you, but even then you were glad he cared. 

"It… it doesn't matter right now. Just-" Spencer once again exhaled sharply, releasing you from his hold as the rest of the team entered the bullpen. 

Morgan smirked as he returned with a drink tray from the other room with Garcia in tow. "Was the case really that bad, Lover boy? Couldn't wait to get back to your pretty lady?" Derek teased, his eyebrows wiggling as he smiled his signature smile. 

Reid rolled his eyes, not as annoyed as he usually was with Derek's antics. 

"Hey, I bought food for everyone. Hope fast-food is good enough." You spoke up, picking up the paper bag to lift up for everyone to see. 

Hotch nodded, while Rossi and Emily smiled thankfully. "Sounds perfect. I didn't feel like cooking anyway." Rossi joked, walking over to take his share of the food. 

"It's a nice offer, but Will's got something at home for me. We rarely ever get home in time for dinner anymore, so when we get the chance we take it." JJ says, grabbing her go bag once it was dropped off. 

"Alright. Just send me your reports in the morning." Hotch says, getting a nod in return from JJ. 

"Junior G Man," Garcia spoke up. Spencer turned around, facing the eccentric hacker. "Don't you have something you wanna tell (Y/N)?" She asked,

Spencer’s face lit up in a bright blush, thinking Garcia meant something else entirely. This blush also effectively caught Morgan and Emily's attention. "Well? Do you pretty boy?" Morgan teased. 

You sighed. "Leave him alone guys. If he's not ready to tell me what happened that's fine." You settle. Truthfully, of course you wanted to know. But if it was something business related or something about the case you knew it could wait. 

Spencer sighed with relief. He'd tell you once the two of you were home. Maybe then, you'd be able to react without fear of judgement. 

Garcia sighed. "Well, still. I've got something to announce." She insisted, her smile returning bright and bubbly as ever. 

Hotch raised an eyebrow, pausing his conversation with Derek. "What is it, Garcia?"

"Well, since we all didn't get a chance to celebrate her rescue, I'm inviting everyone out to have drinks in a couple days in (Y/N)'s honor!" Garcia smiled, cheering to herself. 

You smiled happily, reaching into the paper fast food bag and pulling out a few fries. "Thank you Pen. You don't have to though." You insist, putting the fries into your mouth. 

Garcia waved you off. "Nonsense! We're gonna celebrate finding you! And we'll all have to get taxis cause we'll be too drunk!" Garcia insisted, hurrying over and giving you a hug. 

You hug her back, smiling at her happily. "Okay, okay, I give. Will you be letting us know the place soon?" 

"Why of course my fine furry friend!!" Garcia giggles. "Of course I'm gonna let JJ know too. Everybody's gonna be there." She says before she waves goodbye to everyone, scurrying back to her den. 

Spencer laughs and shakes his head. "I guess we just made plans?" He asks out loud. 

Hotch, Rossi, Emily, and Morgan all laugh along with you. Hotch even cracked a smile. "I guess we did. I'll see if I can get free for that night. She was right, you deserve to be celebrated whether your case was a priority for the BAU or not." Hotch explained, giving you a genuine look. You couldn't fight the blush that slipped onto your face, but you did smile at him. 

"Thanks, Hotch." You answer. Then your attention shifted to Spencer. "I'm going to head to the bathroom real quick then we can head home." You then began walking away from him towards the bathrooms, unbeknownst to you being checked out by Spencer himself. Hey, he's got eyes. 

"Reid." 

Spencer jumped and looked to Hotch, blinking a few times. "Yeah, Hotch?" He asked. 

Aaron walked over, clearing Morgan to go ahead and head to his office for them to continue their conversation. "Garcia sent me a message saying you both had information on Peter Calvin. What do you have?" He asked, his tone and volume lowered. 

Spencer sighed, and rubbed the back of his neck again, finding it worrying that he was developing it as a nervous tick. "Garcia and I saw him on some nearby traffic cams. I spoke to JJ and Emily about it. I assumed they would have told you by now." 

Hotch sighed, taking his mental notes. "Which direction was he headed?" He asked. 

"Southwest, towards Quantico." Spencer replied. 

"I'll let the police know to keep an eye out for the license plate number and the car Garcia got on the footage. For now, keep (Y/N) safe. We cannot afford him getting his hands on her again. He may not stay nearby this time. And she may not be as lucky." Hotch warned before he stepped away from Spencer and then began walking up towards his office. 

Spencer let out an exhausted sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. When he reopened them, you were standing near him, smiling gently at him. "Hey stranger." 

He smiled at you, his mood immediately improved by your presence. "Hey." 

"You wanna head home or get some dinner first? I know you probably don't want fast food. When I was getting this I was thinking about what you'd say. 'Eating junk-food has a-'" 

"A link to higher rates of obesity, depression, type 2 diabetes, cancer, and in some cases early death." Spencer finished, his smile wide as he looked to you. You giggled playfully and nodded. 

"Yep. Exactly." You smiled. "So I made sure to buy some extra healthy food to make at home." 

Spencer smiled back even wider. "That sounds great. But I think eating something healthy we can already buy ready-made will be good for tonight. This last case wasn't an easy one." 

You smirked and nudged his arm. "Is that so?" You teased. Spencer smiled and looked down somewhat bashfully. 

You smiled and looked up triumphantly. "Well, then you'll have to tell me about it on the way home." 

Spencer chuckled as he gave into your teasing, nodding his head a little. "Yes, I suppose I will." He replied, a bright smile on his face. 

○●♡●○ 

"Okay, you have got to tell me how you narrowed that hunting zone parameter down. I don't think I could've done it even if you were paying me-" you expressed gleefully, dropping the soup kitchen bag on the dining room table with two neatly placed chairs on either side. Spencer then walked in past you, dropping his go bag behind the couch as he turned back to face you. His face was brighter than a string of christmas lights and his smile whiter than a cloud. If he wasn't so focused on your beauty he'd notice the pain in his cheeks. 

"I'm sure you could've. I could help you if you'd like. It's actually quite simple." Spencer nodded his head and smiled at you teasingly, earning a playful and teasing glare in response. 

"Yeah, and I went to school for Geometry instead of Psychology." You joke, digging into the bag for one of the styrofoam containers of soup and placing them on the table. 

"Which makes me wonder why you didn't take Geometry. I know it wasn't for a lack of smarts, you're very skilled with that aspect-" Spencer began to ramble on, walking over to the table and putting napkins under the soup containers as you put them down to act as coasters. 

"I just suck at shapes, okay? Sure I can remember the damn perimeter formula and the area but give me variables and a word problem? I can't figure out how to do shit." You expressed, handing Spencer the plastic spoon that came with the food. Instead, he handed it back to you. 

"I prefer using my own cutlery. Reduces the chance of any chemicals remaining on or inside the plastic being used to make the spoons." He explained, pulling out a drawer and selecting two intricate spoons before closing the drawer with his hip casually. 

You smirk and giggle. "I never thought I'd see you do that." 

Spencer raised an eyebrow as he began to hand you a spoon. "Do what? I don't see what I was doing that was unusual behavior for my personality-" 

"Closing the drawer with your hips, Spence!" You expressed in a loud, happy laughter. "Seriously, you never seemed to me like the kind of guy who'd do that." 

Spencer raised an eyebrow and smiled happily at your cheerful face. "Well I guess surprises do happen on a day to day basis. Even in our line of work." 

You smiled brighter as you finally opened your soup and took a first spoonful. "Amen to that." You giggled, grabbing another napkin to wipe your chin from the stray soup that leaked onto it. 

"Guess I'm still a clutz. Not even being kidnapped and raped is gonna change that I guess…" you mutter, causing Spencer to half choke on his soup. His eyes widen as he looks to you, his eyebrows furrowed after a moment. 

"(Y/N), do you… wanna talk?" Spencer asks, slowly approaching you as he places his soup down on the table. He didn't even care where. You were more important. 

You sniffle and shake your head. "No… no I'll be okay. I just wanna eat and go to bed. And… and hope that I don't see his face again tonight-" you choke on a sob, lifting a hand to your face and wiping desperately at rapid tears. 

Spencer rushed over and hugged you tightly, cradling your head softly as he held you. He whispered gently into your ear, letting you deal with your emotions while he was there to listen. He was good at that, he thought. 

You pressed your forehead against his shoulder, your hands clutching at his vest. "S-spencer I-" you hiccuped. "I'm sorry… I shouldn't-" 

Spencer shook his head. "No, you should. You're allowed to express how you feel, (Y/N). I will always be here for you. No matter how many times you need me to be." 

You sniffled, sucking in your bottom lip anxiously as you looked up at him. "Promise..?" 

Spencer smiled down at you, caressing your cheek. "Promise." 

You let your lips curl into a hesitant smile as an idea crosses your mind. "Do… do you think…" your bottom lip quivers as you ponder your own question. 

Spencer’s head tilts and his face softens as he looks down at you, being patient with your feelings. "Yeah?" 

You take in a sigh and grunt at your pathetic-ness. "Do you think maybe I could share a bed with you tonight? Just in case?" You asked, a bright blush accompanying the slight voice crack that added to your awkwardness. 

Spencer’s eyes widened at your question and his cheeks blew up a firey red as he began to fluster. "U-uh-uh…" Spencer scrambled to reply in a timely and polite manner, but he was so caught off guard. 

You bit the inside of your cheek and grunted. "Forget it, I knew it was a long shot…" you let go of Spencer’s vest and began to move away to go back to eating. 

What surprised you was the sudden grasp of your hand once it fell to your side. You swear your head swung towards Spencer as soon as you felt his touch, almost as quick as a sword. 

Spencer looked down into your glossy eyes, red rimmed from crying. He saw beauty in them. He saw a genius, a comedian, a model, and saw perfection. All in the oceans of color that were you're irises. 

He would be a fool to reject your proposal. 

"Of course, you just shocked me a little." Spencer insisted, squeezing your hand. He wanted nothing more than to see your lips curl into their familiar smile and see you laugh again. At least he'd see one thing tonight. 

You smiled gently at Spencer’s reply, blushing softly in response. "You… you mean it? It's… not too terribly weird?" You brushed a strand of stray hair behind your ear, trying not to freak out. 

Spencer tried to make a face that said 'don't worry about it' but instead managed to make an altogether new look instead. One that gave him a chance to see the other expression he loved on you. 

You snorted at his expression and began to laugh. Your eyes were full of joy as you laughed, even with a care in the world. Spencer couldn't be more in love. 

You laid your head on his chest for a moment, sighing as you began to calm down from your laughter. You looked up at Spencer, who's face somehow had managed to grow even redder from your placement. 

"What?" You ask, moving back as you assumed you'd done something wrong. 

"It's nothing, (Y/N). Promise. W-why don't we just eat and then we can head to bed?" Spencer suggested, not knowing if he'd be able to handle another moment without kissing you. 

You took in a heavy, but relieved sigh. "Yeah… yeah…" 

Spencer then took his seat, moving the chair closer to your side. He picked up his now lukewarm soup and began eating it anyway. You watch him for a few moments before you begin to do the same. 

And it was just like that, just you two. 

○●♡●○ 

"You done in there yet? I still gotta brush my teeth. Studies have shown that if you don't brush your teeth it can lead to erectile disfunction, inflammation, head and neck cancer-" Spencer began to ramble, knocking against the bathroom door gently. 

You swing the door open with a toothbrush in your mouth. "I know, Spence. You just gave me that speech 10 minutes ago." You tease, a smile pulling onto your toothpaste stained cheeks. "Come on, get in here and brush those damn teeth." 

Spencer chuckled to himself and walked in beside you. "I don't believe that kind of language is supposed to be used when talking about the bones inside our mouth." He teases, raising an eyebrow. 

You roll your eyes and elbow his arm. "Shut up!" You smile playfully. "Compared to you, I'm a cranky old grandma, you old sailor." 

Spencer laughed as he put the toothbrush in his mouth and began brushing. You finished up and washed your toothbrush in the running water before heading into Spencer’s room to get into the covers. 

Spencer finished up a few minutes after and washed his toothbrush. "I am not a swearing sailor. If anything-" he starts, walking into his room to find you falling asleep under the covers with a pillow in your arms. 

Spencer softly chuckled and turned off the bathroom light, closing the door behind him and closing the bedroom door as well. 

He walked over and sat down on his usual side of the bed. He looked over at you again, smiling at your peaceful form. If he could give you eternal reassurance that you'd be okay, he would. Even if he had to do time for manslaughter. 

He sighed and turned back towards his lamp and turned it off once he plugged in his work phone. See, he knew technology. He just didn't prefer it to paper copies of things. 

He then adjusted the covers and climbed into them, trying not to convince himself that staring at you sleeping for a whole night was a good idea. 

A sudden crash echoed into the apartment and startled Spencer awake. It didn't sound like glass, more like wood breaking. He took heavy breaths and looked beside him, finding you stirring awake. 

Spencer reached into his nightstand and picked up his spare work pistol. He didn't know who or what it was that just broke in, but he wasn't going to let it get to you. 

"Spence…" 

Spencer looked back over to you, seeing your eyes opening slightly. "Shh… hey, I'll be right back. I'm just going to check what happened. Stay here, okay? No matter what you hear." Spencer whispered, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

You murmured a few inaudible sounds but nodded. That was good enough for Spencer. 

He then got up from the mattress and began to fumble with his gun. Once he had it aimed, he snuck out into the main area of his apartment. 

The windows provided plenty of moonlight to see, so Spencer wasn't worried about seeing the intruder. He didn't want to let them know he was awake. That would cause violence that didn't need to happen yet. He had the element of surprise. And he needed to keep it that way. 

Rustling of pages, and of books echoed into the room as Spencer slowly looked around the corner to see who was the invader of his home. 

The intruder was bent over the couch, looking through the books that laid there as if looking for something. Proof of something. The intruder was definitely a man. He was definitely at least 6'2, and his voice was a little deeper. 

"Dammit, how can she hide so damn well?!" The man cursed, letting the book hit the couch with a dulled thud. 

Spencer looked a little farther past the corner, swearing he'd heard this voice before, if not had heard it described to him before. He had an idea of who this was, a damn good one. But he needed proof before he decided to make his presence known to this devil of a man. 

Spencer’s foot made the wood beneath him creak for a moment, causing the intruder to look his way. And that's when Spencer knew. The man had green, piercing eyes. Ones he'd definitely seen on one Peter Calvin. 

He had enough evidence to do what he planned. Spencer hid behind the bookshelf for a few more moments, hearing Peter's footsteps approach his position. 

Then, just before Spencer knew he'd be in him, he turned and faced Peter with his gun facing him and his finger dancing with the trigger. 

"Give me one good reason not to shoot, you son of a bitch?" Spencer glared, his aim never wavering as his anger swirled around his head. 

Peter grinned. "You…" he began to laugh maniacally. Spencer’s composure wavered only a smidge. Why was he laughing? 

"You-!" Peter cackled, his face turning into one of victory. "Out of all the men in the world she could choose to protect her whore-ass--" Peter sneered, reaching behind him. "She chose you."

Spencer refocused his aim, his eyebrows furrowing. "What does that have to do with how you treated her? How badly wounded she was when we found her?" Spencer retorted, spitting out the words like they were poison. 

Peter rolled his eyes, putting his hands in the air as Spencer refocused his aim. "Please, she's my damn property. I can do with her as I wish-" 

"She's no one's property-!"

"Why do you say that? Have you been inside her yet? If you had you'd never want to let another man have her." Peter taunted, his smirk ever so large on his face. 

Spencer’s face and sneer never shifted, even as Peter was determined to get under his skin. "It doesn't matter. She doesn't belong to anyone. She's a human being. She has thoughts, feelings--things you can't take away from her. " 

"We'll work on that. Once she has my first child she'll have no feelings of her own. It'll all be about our little boy." 

"I don't care how much money you fucking paid for her--" Spencer’s voice raised as his finger fiddled with the trigger. "She is not yours! I will never, ever let you get your filthy hands on her again!" 

Peter rolled his eyes as Spencer roared his declaration. "Men like you disgust me. You let the women walk all over you. You give them rights to shut them up and then suddenly you start giving them the freedom to take power. Then we're suddenly the ones being undermined. We're the men! We should be in power while the women give us children-"

"No!" Spencer yelled. "You’re wrong." He breathed, hoping that you would stay where you were until he could be sure you were safe. 

"Peter sneered and looked to the ground. "You seriously are gonna take the side of a woman? A walking pussy?" Peter asks, getting threateningly close to Spencer. 

Spencer re-aims his gun, making sure his first shot would be the only one he'd have to fire. "Yes. Because she's a person." 

Peter smirked and briefly laughed. "You wanna die? Or are you gonna step aside so I can reclaim what's mine?" He asks, his hand gripping Spencer’s gun tightly. 

Spencer scowled as he looked slightly up at Peter. "I'd rather lose my life than give you what was never yours." He growled, not daring to instigate the conflict.

Peter then forced Spencer to the ground with a roar of anger, slamming his head into the floor. Spencer scrambled and pushed against Peter’s shoulders, managing to bite his shoulder. 

Peter let go of Spencer briefly to gasp in pain. He was strong, but not as strong as Morgan. Why else did he need to injure Morgan to abduct him then? 

"Damn it-! You string-bean bastard!" Peter spat as he began to charge at Spencer again. Spencer narrowly dodged and grabbed Peter’s arm and shoulder, forcing him into the floor. 

"String Bean? That's the best you've got-?" He asked as Peter rolled him back around and held his shoulders down against the floor. 

"Why must you be so damn difficult-!? She's mine you cunt-!" Peter spat into Spencer’s face. Sending a punch into his face. Spencer spits up at Peter the blood from the impact, only earning him a second punch in return. 

Spencer grunted as Peter raised his fist to give a third punch. Spencer leaned his head back just far enough that he could headbutt Peter hard. 

The impact sounded throughout the small apartment as Peter staggered off of Spencer from the onset of the pain. Spencer scrambled to his feet and tried to race towards his gun. Peter unfortunately managed to regain his control and grabbed Spencer’s arms and spun him around. 

"You really thought you could win that easily?" Peter hissed, slamming Spencer’s face into the corner he'd previously been hiding behind. Spencer let out a cry of pain before he was spun right back around and thrown across the room from a shove. 

Spencer landed onto his back onto the go bag you had placed behind the couch. He winced at something hard hitting him in the back. Peter was slowly moving towards the bedroom now, a smirk on his face. 

No, Spencer grunted, reaching behind him through his blurring vision. He wasn't going to lose this. He wasn't going to lose you again. 

When he reached behind him, he found what he'd needed. It was his usual pistol. He must have mispacked it when he was getting ready to head onto the jet. 

"Hey Peter," Spencer called, surprising himself with how loud he still could be. 

Peter scoffed and turned back towards Spencer, who was managing to stand up on two feet. "What now? You can barely hold your own-" 

Spencer smirked. "You know what?" He asked, pulling out the pistol from behind him. Peter widened his eyes, glancing from the second pistol to the one he had knocked away. 

He was speechless as he listened to Spencer’s next and final words. 

"I can't say it was a pleasure to meet you." Spencer replied eerily before he fired his pistol, shooting Peter in the chest and shattering the glass of the bookcase behind him. 

Spencer exhaled a long sigh of relief once Peter fell against the floor, blood beginning to pool around him. With Spencer’s injuries, he'd be able to convince any judge that he'd only killed Peter in an act of defence. 

You were safe now. 

Suddenly footsteps raced out into the living room. Your figure entered the room and turned on the lights. What followed was a shriek of terror from you at both Peter and at Spencer’s condition. 

Spencer hurried over to you and wrapped his arms around you, not caring whether or not the two of you were together at this point. 

"S-spencer… W-what d-d-did-" you began to stutter, still breathing heavily and beginning to panic. 

Spencer instead cradled your head and softly shushed your worries. "Shh… it's okay now, I promise." He breathed, kissing your forehead protectively. 

You stayed silent, still in shock and horror of who laid dead at your feet. Instead you let him hold you, and you breathed in his cologne and his natural scent. It still managed to calm you, even after that night's events. 

"I promise, he's never going to hurt you again my darling…" 

And you believed him.


End file.
